

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap.. sf.d^opy right No. 


Shelf. 


______ 




UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 










“ When they had reached the middle of the black water, the knight 
suddenly arose.” 


[Frontispiece. ] 


Page 222. 



ENCHANTING 


AND 

ENCHANTED 


FROM THE GERMAN OF HACKLANDER. 


ita UJsilkr*., 



BY 

MRS. A. L. WISTER, 

TRANSLATOR OF “THE OLD MAM’SELLE’S SECRET,” “GOLD ELSIE,’ ONLI 
A GIRL,” ETC. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 

> L. . 

> 


J .. 

1Q9& 



10854 


Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 
J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


Copyright, 1898, by Annis Lee Wister. 



TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 

YV V 





<=l < b 


CONTENTS. 


n‘ 

•AO* 

The Elfin Tree . , 5 

The Dwarfs’ Nest ....... 54 

The Princess Morgana. . . • . ■ .85 

Castle Silence . 145 

The Fairy Tankard 181 

(Hi) 































































s. * 

















* 





















4 





















. 
















































































FAIRY SPELLS, 


THE ELFIN TREE. 

When, in winter, the boughs of the trees are bend- 
ing under their weight of snow, and the rude north wind 
whistles through the streets, when the days grow shorter, 
and the evenings longer and longer, the children ask 
each other, “ How many Sundays will there be before 
Christmas?” And first, there are four, then three, then 
two, and at last only one, and then another reckoning 
begins, and the children count up how many times they 
must go to bed and get up again before Christmas ever 
comes. This is the way with all children, rich and 
poor ; for even if there is no Christmas-tree for the lat- 
ter, and though they may receive no rich gifts, they 
rejoice in the splendour of the brilliant lights which 
shine through the windows everywhere, and delight in 
the little gift, be it ever so small, which their poor 
parents have provided for them. But this evening is a 
sad one for the poor child who has neither parents nor 
relatives, but, living upon the charity of strangers, must 
see beautiful fir trees shining everywhere, and beautiful 
gifts given, without having any share in either, or some- 
times even being allowed to look at them. 

i* 


( 5 ) 


6 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


At the time when our wonderful story took place 
there was just such a poor orphan child living in the 
house of a rich tradesman, who had many children 
under the care of a bad step-mother, whom he had mar- 
ried soon after the death of his first wife, and who bore 
him a son, whom she petted and entirely spoiled. Al- 
though the father would not allow this bad step-mother 
to indulge her own son more than his other children, and 
saw to it strictly that they were all treated equally well, 
he could not induce her to treat the poor orphan boy, 
who was called Gustave, with love and gentleness. 
When he sometimes remonstrated with her upon the 
subject, she would say: “Well, the little good-for- 
nothing ought to be content with enough to eat and 
drink, and a place to sleep in. It is a new idea that 
beggars’ brats must be petted and indulged.” Ah! 
poor Gustave did not deserve that, and never com- 
plained when coarser food and clothes were provided 
for him than for the other children, only it grieved 
him sorely, and he could not understand why the other 
children, who were no handsomer nor better than he, 
should be treated so much more kindly. And partic- 
ularly on Christmas morning, when the little ones were 
all showing their beautiful toys and gifts, and when 
the son of the bad step-mother would maliciously as- 
sure him that the Christ-child brought nothing for beg- 
gars’ children, the poor orphan would be sad indeed, 
and resolve that if ever the Christ-child came in hi? 
way he would entreat him to tell him why he always 
forgot him. 

And now Christmas-eve had come round again, and 
Gustave learned from the maids and men in the kitchen 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


7 


that at midnight a silver bell would ring, and the 
Christ-child would come riding on a little ass to bring 
the children all the beautiful toys which they would 
find the next morning upon the tables and chairs. 
“Then,” he thought to himself, “ to-night I will listen 
for the bell, and run to meet the Christ-child and 
ask him humbly to remember me.” And Gustave 
tossed upon his miserable bed in the attic, and could 
not sleep for expectation, but heard every stroke of 
the clock. At last just as it struck twelve, he seemed 
to hear a gentle noise in the house, something like 
the ringing of a little bell. He got softly out of 
bed, and excitement, as well as cold, nrutde his teeth 
chatter loudly. He slowly went down the stairs and 
listened attentively, but everything in the house was 
as quiet as a church ; he could not hear the slightest 
noise. At last he saw a ray of light through the chink 
of a door which had not been quite closed, and, peep- 
ing in, found to his sorrow that he had come too late, 
for the Christ-child had already ridden away, after 
covering the table with the most beautiful toys. 

At first the poor fellow was about to slip up to his 
attic again ; but he could not resist his curiosity, and 
slowly opened the door that he might see the toys more 
distinctly. Oh, dear, what beautiful things were there ! 
The child stood confused and amazed, and looked 
about him for some time before he could quietly ex- 
amine anything. On a table in the middle of the 
room stood a tall hemlock tree covered with wax-lights 
and beautiful things. On the top of the tree there 
were two golden flags, which waved in the draught 
of air that came from the door when the boy opened 


8 


THE ELFIN TREE . 


it. Upon the table under the tree there were heaps 
of all kinds of toys. There stood a great dray loaded 
with chests and bales, and the driver, standing by, was 
swinging his whip above his head, all so naturally 
made that one felt convinced that if the whip would 
only crack the horses would gallop quickly away. And 
there too stood a beautiful carriage, such as wealthy, 
distinguished people drive, — it was painted blue and 
had red wheels, — and sitting in it was a wondrously 
beautiful little lady dressed in a white silk frock, 
trimmed with lace, with a myrtle crown and a long 
veil upon her head, and her little, round face looked 
so kindly at poor Gustave that he could scarcely take 
his eyes off her. Beside the carriage was ranged a 
regiment of wooden soldiers, with great bear -skin 
caps upon their heads and muskets upon their shoul- 
ders, looking sternly and rigidly before them. The 
drummers went first, holding their drumsticks, all 
ready to beat bravely at the word of command. On 
the other side of the table were pretty little houses ; 
yes, a whole town, with churches and bridges, and a 
large garden besides, with beautiful trees and little 
fountains, and in the garden finely-dressed people were 
walking, and huntsmen, with their guns upon their 
shoulders, were spying diligently around for the hares 
and deer that were leaping about under the treps. 

And now Gustave noticed, directly beneath the hem- 
lock tree, a figure which at first shocked him not a 
little. It was twice as big as the other figures which 
stood upon the table around it, and had a misshapen, 
large, almost square head. Its mouth was even too 
large and misshapen for its ugly head* and was, be- 


THE ELFIN TREE . 


9 


sides, wide open, showing a row of sharp, white teeth. 
Its eyes were red, with a small black pupil in each, 
which looked fiercely out upon the world. The fellow 
was dressed in red breeches, little yellow boots, and 
a hussar’s jacket. At his side hung a large sabre, and 
upon his boots were ugly spurs. But what surprised 
Gustave most was the length of his queue behind, which 
almost reached to his feet. This fierce-looking crea- 
ture was no other than the celebrated Sir Nutcracker, 
who lends children his sharp teeth, as long as he is in 
the humour for it, to crack their nuts. The poor child 
had never had occasion to request the services of this 
grim gentleman, consequently was in great terror of so 
fierce a fellow. Although, upon examining him more 
closely, Gustave soon left him and went to the other 
side of the table to the little lady in the white silk 
dress, who smiled at him so kindly, he could not help 
glancing across sometimes at Nutcracker, and it seemed 
then as though the little man rolled his red eyes towards 
him and chattered with his teeth. But the room was 
so comfortable and warm, and the odour of the hemlock 
tree was so sweet and strange, that the child’s eyes 
began to close. If he thought of going up to his attic 
to bed, the little lady looked from her carriage so ten- 
derly that he found it impossible to leave her ; so Gus- 
tave, after some reflection, seated himself upon a low 
bench at the table, and, though he resolved firmly not 
to go to sleep, his head sunk on his breast and his eyes 
closed involuntarily. 

Then suddenly the golden flags waved more proudly 
upon the hemlock tree, and the needles on the branches 
rustled loudly ; and it seemed to Gustave that the Nut- 


IO 


THE ELFIN TREE . 


cracker raised his head slowly and sharpened his teeth 
upon the trunk of the tree. Even the rigid wooden 
soldiers moved their feet restlessly, as though impa- 
tient to march; and the boy thought he could dis- 
linctly see the whip of the driver move as though about 
to crack loudly. A moment afterwards all was quiet 
again, and, half sleeping and half waking, the boy 
turned to the beautiful lady in the carriage, and if his 
lips spoke no word, the beating of his heart asked why 
the Nutcracker looked so angrily from the root of the 
hemlock tree, and why the soldiers and driver seemed 
so anxious to come to life. The beautiful lady in the 
white silk dress turned her head somewhat to one side 
and whispered so softly that it almost sounded like the 
rustling of the hemlock needles. “Ah, alas ! in the 
moss under the hemlock tree the evil sorcerer sits hid- 
den, who keeps us all prisoners, so that we cannot 
move and breathe; and if he were dead — yes, if he 
were only dead — we could enjoy existence as you do, 
and go out into the world to meet a better fate than 
that of being broken and spoiled in the hands of 
naughty children.” At these last words the beautiful 
little lady seemed to shed a couple of tears, and the 
Nutcracker could be distinctly heard rattling his sabre 
and his spurs angrily. 

What he thus heard about the sorcerer sounded very 
strangely to the boy, and he was quite frightened. 
But suddenly he pictured to himself, as the evil sorcerer, 
some one who abused and ill treated the little lady just 
as he was abused by the bad step-mother, and his 
heart beat so angrily that he woke up suddenly ana 
ran to the hemlock tree to look for the sorcerer, firmly 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


II 


resolving to twist his neck for him. Then a low cry of 
joy seemed to break from the people upon the table, 
and, as he felt through the moss at the foot of the tree 
with his hands, he thought the little lady in the white 
silk dress looked towards him and nodded her head 
kindly. For some time he found nothing suspicious; 
but at last he drew forth out of the moss a figure 
scarce two inches high, which had no legs or arms, 
but a fiery-red head, with small malicious eyes and 
a mouth that stretched from ear to ear. “Aha!” 
thought Gustave, “this must be the evil sorcerer,” 
and he took him with him back to his seat and placed 
him upon the edge of the table ; for he had too true a 
feeling of justice to condemn the little fellow unheard, 
even though he were the worst sorcerer in the world. 
He placed him on the table before him with his head 
upright, that he might ask him seriously why he per- 
secuted with his evil spells the poor lady in the 
carriage, the brave Sir Nutcracker, and all the com- 
pany of lofty and lowly degree upon the table, and 
why he would not set them free. But scarcely had he 
taken his thumb and finger from the little thing’s body 
when the impudent fellow, as in sheer defiance, toppled 
upside down and stood stiff upon his red head. 

Gustave found such behaviour extremely unbecom- 
ing, and saw in it only the insolence of the little fel- 
low, who wished to laugh at and ridicule his questions. 
He sat him up in the correct position again ; but no 
sooner ,had he done so than he bobbed back again 
more briskly than before, and it seemed to the boy as 
though he waggled his little body to and fro maliciously 
and spitefully. Gustave was extremely vexed at this 


12 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


impatience, and, taking him for the third time, said 
to him: “Listen to me, you evil sorcerer, I advise 
you to cease your tumbling and grimaces, and tell 
me freely and frankly, will you disenchant the poor 
little people here or not ?” But, for the third time, he 
popped upon his head and seemed to jeer at the boy 
by waggling his ugly, misshapen body in the air. 

This was too much. Gustave seized him by the 
head, and was doubtful for a moment whether to twist 
his neck, or hand him over to the honourable Sir Nut- 
cracker. At last he decided in favour of the latter 
course, for he was sorry to destroy anything, even 
though it were only a sorcerer, who had laughed at 
and ridiculed him. And Nutcracker seemed to stretch 
open his mouth wider and his teeth to chatter with 
desire to grind up the hated enemy ; so the boy took 
the little sorcerer in his hand and stuck him quickly 
into Nutcracker’s mouth. A terrible and exciting 
moment ensued, and the sight of the brave Nut- 
cracker’s energetic and fearful exertions to shut his 
mouth, which he could not possibly do, almost drew 
tears from Gustave. The worthy knight’s eyes flashed 
with rage, and his sabre and spurs rattled with un- 
speakable fury, but in vain; he could not shut his 
mouth and grind up the sorcerer. Suddenly it oc- 
curred to the boy that his heavy pig-tail must hinder 
greatly the movements of his jaws, and in order to help 
him to chew up the magician he lifted his queue a little 
into the air. Then the Nutcracker clapped his jaws to- 
gether, so that they sounded loudly through the room, 
and opened his mouth and shut it again, until the 
sorcerer seemed to be quite dead ; so he chewed him 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


*3 

up fine in his jaws with a noise like a coffee-mill 
grinding coffee. 

The boy stood and looked on with amazement, for 
anything like this he had never in his life seen before. 
After the Nutcracker had killed the magician, he 
shouted for joy, took his sabre under his arm, and 
sprang up into the air. Then he hurried to the car- 
riage in which the little lady sat, and, touching his 
hat, said: “ Fairest Princess, I await your com- 
mands.” Ah! a most curious and wonderful bustle 
now began on the table. The driver cracked his whip, 
and the horses, harnessed to the dray, started off, but 
the driver called out, “ Woa! woa!” to them, and they 
stood stock-still, only shaking their harness with de- 
light. The drummers before the soldiers beat a short 
roll, and one of the lieutenants immediately gave the 
word of command : “ Ground arms ! Stand at ease !” 
and the rigid fellows began to move, — one examined 
his gun, and another, taking off his bear-skin cap, put 
some question to a third. In front of the regiment 
the officers stood talking together, and one assured 
another that, ’pon his honour, the weather was in- 
comparably fine; to which the other replied, wittily 
and with enthusiasm, that it really was incomparably 
fine weather. And in the garden everything sud- 
denly began to stir. The trees shook their branches 
as though moved by the wind, the stags and hares 
sprang away over the green grass, and the huntsmen 
followed them with loud shouts and winding of horns, 
and all the groups of people who had before been 
standing stiffly about in the garden-path began to 
move, placed one wooden foot before another, and 


14 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


walked about briskly under the trees. The boy did 
not know what to make of all this, and stood there, 
with clasped hands, staring at these extraordinary 
things. He was particularly interested in the little 
lady in the white silk dress, who often looked round 
at him and now and then nodded at him kindly ; so 
he stayed by that side of the table where the carriage 
was. 

After Sir Nutcracker had run all around the table 
and carefully investigated everything, he came again 
to the carriage-door, and, touching his hat, said : 
“ Most gracious Princess, the spell is broken, and the 
people impatiently await your permission to go out 
into the world. Every moment that we delay here is 
fraught with fresh danger for us; therefore I entreat 
you, O Princess! to give the order to march.” Then 
she nodded carelessly to the Nutcracker and replied : 
“ Most worthy friend, before we leave this place it is 
only reasonable that I should offer my thanks to this 
mortal child, who prudently and wisely discovered the 
sorcerer, pulled him from his hiding-place, and deliv- 
ered him to you, O noble Nutcracker ! for punish- 
ment.” At these last words the noble knight scraped 
his foot, so that his spurs clashed, and he conveyed 
the Princess’s thanks to the boy in the choicest ex- 
pressions, as well as the gratitude of the little people ; 
and the Princess drew from her finger a golden ring, 
with a white stone that sparkled like a dew-drop, and 
handed it to Gustave. 

The child was shocked to find that the beautiful 
little lady, as well as the soldiers and the Nutcracker, 
was about to leave him, and was terribly afraid of the 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


*5 

beating that he would receive the next morning when 
his cross mistress discovered that the things were 
gone, for he thought every one who looked at him must 
see that he had set them all at liberty, — so he made 
one or two useless attempts to induce them to remain. 
And when the little lady shook her head sadly, and 
his Highness, Sir Nutcracker, declared upon his honour 
that any further delay would be useless, and perhaps 
dangerous, he at once resolved to accompany the little 
people, with which determination the Princess seemed 
much more pleased than Sir Nutcracker. The latter, 
indeed, made several objections to the plan ; but as the 
little lady accorded her full and free consent to it, the 
old fellow had to shut his great mouth and content 
himself with casting a couple of unfriendly glances 
at the boy. 

And then Nutcracker announced to all the people 
that the Princess had appointed him Regent of her 
future realm, and that every one must take great 
pains to obey his orders strictly. The command to 
start was given, and the lieutenants, with their soldiers, 
marched off the table to the tap of the drums as 
though an even road had been made from the table to 
the floor. And many other wonders occurred, for all 
the covers sprang up from the boxes and caskets upon 
the table, and the little figures inside of them all 
walked bravely off. Here was a company of trades- 
people with the implements of their trades, and here a 
whole dramatic company with the director at their 
head, and the principal performers walking arm in 
arm, followed by the comic characters, and so on 
down to the stage-manager and lamp-lighter. Then a 


i6 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


regiment of cuirassiers, as well as another regiment of 
dragoons, arose and followed the train. The driver 
cracked his whip, and the horses started off, — while 
behind the heavily-packed dray came the promenaders 
from the garden, followed by the huntsmen and 
dogs, accompanied by the merrily-bounding deer and 
roes. Nutcracker, who did not think it becoming for 
the regent of the kingdom to travel on foot, called up 
a little wooden camel and got upon his back, and the 
poor beast, with his heavy burden, walked patiently 
by the side of the carriage in which the little lady sat. 
Gustave walked on the other side, and, in spite of all 
the wonders he had seen this night, he was surprised 
anew when he saw how correctly and quietly the whole 
train marched down the steps of the house, and how 
the front door, which had opened of itself, closed 
again in the same manner as soon as the whole com- 
pany were in the street. In the room above, the night- 
lamp burnt dimly and gloomily, there was a mournful 
rustling in the boughs of the hemlock, and the gilded 
nuts and sugar-plums twisted and sighed. And out of 
the moss at the foot of the tree there suddenly arose 
a second sorcerer, who stood straight upon his head 
with rage and fury, and, gnashing his teeth, cried out 
to the departing crowd “Only wait until to-morrow, 
you pack of vagabonds, just wait until to-morrow !” 

In the street without, the most beautiful, clear night 
was reigning, and, although the moon set at midnight, 
the stars sparkled so brightly that every path and road 
were seen distinctly by their light. The house where 
Gustave had lived until now was near the end of the 
town, so that the little people soon reached the coun* 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


17 


try, where were large forests and spacious commons. 
The military marched in close squadrons, and were 
on their guard against any night-surprise. And they 
were right, for here and there were seen huge monsters — 
rats, cats, and dogs — who sprang among the little peo- 
ple, gnashing their teeth. Ah, one brave little lieuten- 
ant lost his life on this night in an attempt to distin- 
guish himself, — he drew his sabre and rushed upon 
a young cat who was glaring at him with its red, fiery 
eyes. Vain was his heroic courage and the strength 
of his youthful arm ! The monster laid him low with 
one blow of its huge paw, and the dying lieutenant 
cried with his latest breath, “Long live the Princess 
and Regent Nutcracker!” 

After this sad but not irreparable loss, — for it was 
only a breveted lieutenant, — the little people marched 
quietly on, and soon reached a heath, where Regent 
Nutcracker held a consultation with the grandees of 
the realm as to what was to be done for the night, and 
as to a place of refuge where wicked men should not 
find them at daybreak and take them captive again. 
Although it was mid-winter, Gustave, who was walking 
quickly along by the side of the carriage, did not 
feel at all cold, but was as warm and comfortable as 
on a clear May-day, especially when he looked into 
the black eyes of the friendly little lady. He took 
the liveliest interest in the council now holding, for he 
was greatly troubled by the thought that he might be 
followed and carried back on the morrow. After 
much discussion, the huntsmen maintained that in just 
such places as this in which they found themselves, 
huge beasts, called foxes, lived, who built under ground 

B 2* 


x8 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


the most convenient and beautiful dwellings ever seen. 
“ Yes,” said they, “ deep in the earth are the caves of 
these beasts, built with large antechambers, and all 
around them are wide passages which lead in different 
directions up to the surface of the ground. If we 
could only vanquish one of these monsters we should 
have the handsomest dwelling in the world. But,” 
added the huntsmen and the brave officers, “ much 
heroic blood will flow.” What was to be done? Al- 
though the Princess would not hear at first of her 
subjects losing their lives in such an unequal contest, 
a place of refuge for the night was absolutely necessary, 
and she yielded at last to the prayers of Nutcracker 
and her assembled nobles, and the Regent chose out 
the bravest of the troops to reconnoitre the heath, and 
find a fox’s cave. 

The boy, who had heard much of foxes, and knew 
that they were ugly, sly beasts who stole fowls at night, 
and sometimes even fell upon the hares and rabbits 
in the woods, was appointed by the Regent to lead 
the troops about the heath. Nutcracker himself re- 
mained with the carriage, in order, as he said, to pro 
tect the Princess, and encouraged the departing officers 
with the prospect of the brilliant promotion and the 
glittering stars of a new order which they were about 
to gain. 

Gustave, who felt the importance of his office, had 
no sooner lost sight of the beautiful little lady than 
he suggested to the assembled host under his command 
that it would be much better if he should carry them 
all, officers and men, in his hands, as they could then 
make far greater progress. 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


*9 


This suggestion was adopted, and they soon came to 
a corner of the forest where the boy saw a great many 
little round openings in the ground, which the hunts- 
men, to whom he showed them, declared were the 
holes of foxes. Gustave immediately placed his whole 
army upon the ground. But when they began to put 
themselves in position it was found that many of the 
officers were missing. These brave fellows had been 
seized with a panic at sight of the terrible caves, and 
had wandered away, Heaven knows where. When the 
drummers beat to arms, some were found hidden 
away in the boy’s pockets. But they declared upon 
their honour that they had slipped down there un- 
wittingly. 

One of the holes was immediately surrounded on all 
sides, and the commander of the forces called for vol- 
unteers who would venture as an advanced guard into 
the monster’s dwelling. Twenty bearded warriors were 
soon ready, — old veterans with huge bear-skin caps, — 
who marched into the little openings, two by two, 
with fixed bayonets, and moved slowly onwards. The 
boy seized a stout stick, which he found upon the 
ground, and placed himself before the largest of the 
holes, in order to greet the fox, if he should appear, 
with a good blow upon the nose. The whole army 
stood around the openings, eager and expectant. As 
it was possible that the beast was not at home, but 
seeking for prey in the open fields, the precaution was 
taken of placing a line of pickets in the rear of the 
army, to guard against surprise, and the wisdom of 
this military measure was soon made manifest. For 
no sooner had the brave veterans disappeared in the 


20 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


bowels of the earth than the outside posts rushed in 
to the next in line, and these others upon those in 
front of them, announcing with loud shouts that a 
horrible monster was approaching in great haste. Oh, 
heavens! how many sighs and prayers burst from 
the lips of these valiant officers and men, for the 
dreaded creature was indeed coming! It grieves 
me to confess that at this moment most of the corps 
commanders and officers lost their heads. They 
issued all sorts of contradictory commands, and 
ordered the poor soldiers hither and thither, who, not 
knowing what was best to be done, wisely followed 
their natural impulses and ran away. The huntsmen, 
however, did not imitate this inglorious example; but, 
hiding behind large blades of grass and pebbles, pre- 
pared to receive the monster with well-aimed bullets. 
Yes, it was old Sir Reynard himself who was hurrying 
home. On he came in full career; but whether he 
perceived that matters around his dwelling were not 
all right I cannot say — at any rate, he slackened his 
pace and looked cautiously about. The boy stood 
very near the entrance of the hole, half concealed by 
a tree, with his club tight in his hand, and, as he was 
braver than Nutcracker’s whole army put together, he 
did not flinch, but let the fox get quite near, and then, 
just as the old fellow was about to stick his nose into 
the opening, he gave him such a blow upon his head 
that Reynard turned round and ran like a shot away 
over the fields. Unfortunately he took the direction in 
which the greater part of the army had gone just be- 
fore, and innumerable cries of anguish soon informed 
the boy that the fox had reached the flying host. But, 


THE ELFIN TREE, 


21 


as Reynard was intent only upon escape, he did not 
stop to do the little people any harm, but, only run- 
ning over some battalions of infantry and a few squad- 
rons of dragoons, he quickly vanished in the dark 
night. 

As all danger was now at an end, officers and soldiers 
went back quickly to the fox’s hole, and as in the mean- 
time the brave volunteers had returned from exploring 
it, and reported that it was quite empty and most 
suitably provided with apartments and passages, a mes- 
sage to this effect was soon dispatched to Regent Nut- 
cracker, who appeared upon his camel with a mounted 
escort. The Princess followed him in her carriage, as 
well as the whole train, and when they had all entered 
the hole they fell into one another’s arms with mutual 
congratulations at having obtained so splendid a capital 
city. 

The Regent summoned the volunteers into his pres- 
ence, and, in view of the extraordinary service which 
they had this night rendered the State, he condescended 
to address to them some words of commendation, while 
he appointed all the officers, even those who had run 
away, knights of a newly-founded order, the gold 
crosses of which were, of course, distributed by the 
noble Nutcracker, who took care to provide himself 
with one also. 

The boy, who had certainly contributed the largest 
share towards the happy termination of the dangers 
of the night, was greatly surprised to receive no words 
of praise from Regent Nutcracker, but to be com- 
manded by him to lay aside his club, — a command 
which pained him not a little. He was somewhat 


22 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


comforted, however, on receiving a kindly nod from 
the little lady, although he imagined that he could 
perceive that her face was not as cheerful as before; 
nay, he even thought her eyes filled with tears, and 
that she sighed deeply. The Regent bustled down 
from his camel and commanded the carriers, who were 
standing by their laden carts, to proceed directly into 
the cave with their trunks and boxes, while the trades- 
people would fit up the interior for the reception of 
the Princess. The little men worked with such dili- 
gence and rapidity that it was really a pleasure to 
hear them hammering and sawing. The soldiers as- 
sisted to purify and level the many passages into the 
cave. Sentinels were posted at stated distances along 
these passages; and when all these precautions were 
taken the Regent commanded all to enter their new 
dwelling, and, once more mounting his camel, rode 
before the Princess’s carriage. 

The poor boy, who beheld all these arrangements, 
saw clearly that he would have to remain behind, so 
he approached the carriage and said mournfully to the 
pretty little lady, “ Ah, fairest Princess, what will be- 
come of me ? Will you leave me here alone upon the 
ground in the dark night, which will kill me with 
cold when you have vanished from my eyes — you whose 
kindly look alone has warmed and cheered me ?’ ’ 

At these words the Regent turned around upon his 
camel and said in rather a haughty manner, “We 
thank you, in the name of the kingdom, for the ser- 
vices you have rendered. You have done your duty, 
and we shall bear you in remembrance as long as we 
live.” 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


*3 


The boy, who did not even look at the Regent, 
noticed that at these words the face of the little lady 
grew sadder than before, and that large tears were 
really rolling down her cheeks. She stretched out to 
him her little white hand and said softly, “Ah, dear 
friend, I shall surely see you again.” Whereupon 
the noble Nutcracker motioned to move on, the 
horses started, and the carriage vanished like light- 
ning into the interior of the cave. The soldiers fol- 
lowed, first the infantry, then the cavalry, and, last of 
all, the huntsmen, with the deer and hares, who did 
not seem at all afraid, and soon all had disappeared 
under ground. For awhile the rattling of the vehicles 
could be heard, and the measured tread of the soldiery; 
but this grew fainter and more distant, and at last all 
was quiet and still. 

The boy looked around him with amazement, and 
noticed for the first time, as he gazed over the desolate 
heath, how piercingly cold was the keen morning wind. 
What should he do? Although all the occurrences 
of the past night were so wonderful that they seemed 
to him like a beautiful dream, he was too well con- 
vinced of their reality not to fear bitter ill-treat- 
ment, on his return home, from his cruel mistress and 
her children, who would most probably regard him as 
a thief that had stolen all these things and hidden 
them away. 

And, alas ! his forebodings were but too well founded, 
for scarcely had the day dawned when the cruel mis- 
tress of the house arose and went up to the attic, where 
poor Gustave usually slept, to waken him that he might 
fetch the water and make the fires. She was not a 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


*4 

little surprised to find his bed empty. “Aha !” thought 
she, “ for once he has minded his duty, and has prob- 
ably gone to the spring to wash himself.” So she went 
down stairs again and looked out into the yard, but no 
boy was to be seen or heard there. She waited for 
him a little while, and then, shaking her head, she 
went and got a stick with which to beat him as soon 
as he should appear. But as he did not come she went 
into the room, where the Christmas-tree was and all the 
toys, to make the fire there herself. How shall I de- 
scribe her fright when, upon entering, she found not 
a trace of the beautiful toys which she herself had 
yesterday bought and placed there? At first she 
thought that her eyes deceived her, and ran to the 
windows and tore open the curtains. But this did 
not help her — everything had vanished. 

So she ran and awakened her husband, who hur- 
riedly dressed himself and went into the room, 
where, however, he found nothing more than his 
wife had found. And the children, too, aroused 
by the noise, ran after their parents, and, although 
they were much pleased at sight of the great hem- 
lock tree, they began to cry and bawl loudly, when 
their mamma told them of the beautiful toys which 
Kriss Kringle had brought them, and which had all 
disappeared. 

In her first fright the woman had forgotten that poor 
Gustave was not yet at home ; but she suddenly re- 
membered him, and cried out that he had stolen the 
toys and made off with them. Her husband, too, 
when he heard that the boy was gone, thought her sus- 
picions well founded, and the children screamed and 


THE ELFIN TREE . 


*$ 

howled, declaring that Gustave was just the boy to do 
such a thing. 

Preparations were immediately made to follow and 
bring him back, and the maids and men-servants were 
sent out into the town to search for him, while the 
father himself got ready to assist them. The children, 
weary of crying and lamenting, were examining the 
hemlock tree, and the moss at its foot, when one of 
them showed to the others a very queer little figure, 
that he had found. It had no arms nor legs, but a 
red face, like a man’s, a very wide mouth and small, 
green eyes. The children looked at it, and, placing 
it upon the table, were much amused to see how it 
always stood upon its head and waggled the stump 
of its body in the air. But when the father saw 
that of all the Christmas gifts nothing was left but 
this one juggler, he was so angry that he took him in 
his hand and was going to crush him ; but the chil- 
dren begged so earnestly that he would not harm the 
poor fellow that he did not break him, but carelessly 
slipped him into his pocket. Then he took his hat 
and stick and hurried out of the house to look for the 
runaway boy. 

In the mean time the day had grown bright, so that 
all objects were easily distinguished. A few steps from 
the house he saw something red upon the ground. He 
picked it up and found with astonishment that it was 
one of the officers of the wooden soldiers, with his head 
all cracked on one side. “ Aha !” thought he, “I am 
on the right track here,” and unfortunately some un- 
seen power seemed to direct his steps, for he followed 
exactly the road taken by the little people on the pre- 
3 


26 


THE ELFIN TREE . 


vious night, and soon reached the common where he 
found the poor boy who had fallen asleep before the 
fox’s hole. 

He shook him roughly, and poor Gustave was 
frightened enough. He fell upon his knees and 
prayed for mercy, but his prayers were of no avail; 
his master seized the stick with which the boy had 
chased away the fox and thrashed him soundly, calling 
out to him to confess where he had hidden all the 
beautiful toys. In vain the boy declared that he had 
not carried them off (and he spoke the truth, for 
they had gone of themselves). The man called him 
a wicked thief, and, seizing him by the collar, 
dragged him home, where his mistress repeated the 
punishment and then locked him in a dark cellar, 
bidding him stay there until he should confess what 
had become of all the lovely toys. 

When their father was composed again, the children 
asked him to give them the juggler that he had put into 
his pocket, but he searched for it in vain; he could 
not find what they wanted. As he thought he must 
have dropped it where he had found the boy, he sent 
the children thither to look for the ugly little fellow. 
After awhile they returned without having found him, 
but bringing with them a quantity of wooden soldiers, 
which they said they had found lying on the ground 
just outside of the many openings to the fox’s cave. 
The cruel mistress was now convinced that the boy 
had stolen all the rest of the toys and taken them 
with him, and with blows and abuse she commanded 
him instantly to confess. The cellar where poor 
Gustave was imprisoned was terribly cold and dark. 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


*7 


Although he would not have cared if they had found 
and brought back Regent Nutcracker and all the 
soldiery and tradesfolk, he could not help weeping 
bitterly at the idea of their finding the poor little 
lady and bringing her back also, without that kindly 
smile upon her face which had beamed upon him 
when she came to life, and at the thought that the 
naughty children of the house would throw her about, 
break her lovely head perhaps, and soil the splendid 
white silk dress. But at last a way out of his diffi- 
culties occurred to him. He confessed to his cruel 
mistress that he knew where the toys were, and that 
he would bring them back if she would let him go 
alone for them, but declared that if she would not, he 
would sooner be beaten to death than tell another word 
about them. He hoped that he might be able to en- 
large one of the passages to the fox’s hole, so that he 
could creep in and capture Nutcracker and the rest of 
the little people. But he resolved firmly never to 
bring back the little white lady, but rather to leave 
her forever in her palace under ground than give her 
up to wicked people. 

When the mistress saw that she could do nothing 
with him, she let the poor boy have his way, and he 
went out upon the heath with a little spade to begin 
his work there. 

But how can I describe his astonishment and fright 
when he saw standing beside the fox’s hole a hunts- 
man with two or three little dogs, that he was en 
couraging to creep into the various openings? The 
huntsman, quite an old man, had a kind, honest face, 
and bade the boy good-morning ; whereupon the latter 


28 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


seized him by the hand and entreated him not to let 
the dogs get into the cave. The huntsman replied 
with a smile that he could not grant his request, for 
there was a large fox in this den, that had done a 
great deal of damage already, and that had eluded 
every effort made to capture him. The old man spoke 
so kindly, and inspired the boy with so much con- 
fidence, that he told him in as few words as possible the 
strange occurrences of the past night. The huntsman 
listened and was not a little affected when the boy, in 
his simplicity, told him how he had wanted to meet the 
holy Christ-child in the night that he might beg him 
to bring him some little gift. To be sure he shook his 
head at the account of the animated toys, but the boy 
assured him so earnestly that he was telling the truth 
that the old man did not know what to think, and, 
moved by the child’s entreaties, turned to his dogs to 
call them off from the fox-hole. 

But it was too late ; they had already disappeared in 
the openings and were heard growling and barking 
inside. 

“Ah!” cried the boy, “nowall, all is lost! they 
will bite the poor beautiful little lady in the white silk 
dress to death — that poor dear little lady who gave 
me her hand so kindly, and who was so afraid of being 
soiled by the children’s hands, will now be torn to 
pieces by the dogs !” 

The old man, moved by the child’s distress, took a 
little silver whistle from his girdle, and, after calling 
on the dogs loudly by name, he whistled three times 
to hurry thorn back to him from the hole. Then the 
noise and barking in the fox-hole grew louder, and 


THE ELFIN TREE . 


29 


you could hear that the dogs were shaking something 
before them. Still they came nearer and nearer to 
the surface until one of them crept out of the 
opening, dragging a figure which Gustave recog- 
nized, to his great astonishment, as the brave and 
noble Nutcracker, whose misshapen limbs and thick 
head lay stark and stiff upon the ground. Gustave 
seized him and showed him to the huntsman. Ah ! 
no trace of life could be discovered in him. His 
queue behind stood out uncommonly stiff; his jaws 
were tight set, and when the boy tried to open them 
he found that the joint was broken and useless. 

Unkind as the Regent had been to him, poor Gus- 
tave would not have grudged a tear to his untimely fate 
if it had not suddenly occurred to him that the shame- 
less Nutcracker had forsaken the poor Princess, and 
probably left her to die. One dog after another crept 
out, bringing quantities of the vanished toys. One 
had scraped together a whole heap of soldiers, and the 
poor fellows lay there stiff and motionless, with their 
guns upon their shoulders and their bear-skin caps upon 
their heads. Another dog had a horse by the neck, and 
dragged him out, bringing with him the whole team, 
dray, driver, and all. A third hauled out a quantity 
of harmless promenaders ; in short, the dogs brought 
out in time all the toys, and the boy was every mo- 
ment fearful that the poor little lady would appear 
hacked and torn like all the other things. But she did 
not come, and the last dog appeared at one of the 
openings. Gustave hardly dared to look, so fearful 
was he of beholding the poor Princess; but instead, 
the dog had in his mouth something which the bov 
3 * 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


hastily picked up, for it looked just like the malicious 
little fellow who had stood so defiantly on his head 
before him. “ Ah !” thought Gustave to himself, “this 
is the evil sorcerer, — it is his fault that they found 
me here, and that all these poor creatures have grown 
stiff and stark again.” And, in a sudden fit of anger, 
he tore off the sorcerer’s red head and threw him far 
away. Then it seemed as though all the figures which 
lay dead upon the ground twitched and stirred a little ; 
yes, the noble Nutcracker made one vain attempt to 
drop his lower jaw, but the spark of life was extinct, — 
they all lay there cold and dead. 

The boy gathered together all the toys and wrapped 
them in a cloth that he had brought with him. The 
huntsman stopped up all the openings to the fox-hole, 
and made a curious mark upon it with his hunting- 
knife, which would prevent, he said, any animal from 
ever creeping in there again, “in order,” he added, 
smiling, “that your poor little Princess may not be 
disturbed in her sleep.” 

The sympathy which the boy had shown for the life- 
less figures pleased the old man, and the frank, open 
bearing of the lad attracted him greatly, so he went 
into town with him to the merchant’s house, where the 
cruel mistress, at sight of the spoiled playthings, at- 
tempted again to beat and abuse Gustave. But the 
huntsman reproved her roughly for her violence, which 
made her very angry, and she asked why he inter- 
fered with matters which did not concern him. How- 
ever, when the huntsman announced that he was the 
Keeper of the neighbouring forests, and wished to take 
the boy with him, that he might make a skilful hunts- 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


3 1 


man of him, the bad woman grew more amiable, and, 
as she was sure that she could not get rid of the boy 
more easily, she talked it over with her husband, and 
both gave their consent, to Gustave’s great joy, for he 
had already grown fond of the old huntsman. 

They immediately started off, and when they came 
to the fox-hole the boy stood still for a moment, folded 
his hands, and gazed sadly at the hillock, as one would 
contemplate a grave. Ah ! for him it was indeed a 
grave, for there lay the beautiful little lady in her 
white silk dress, with her pleasant little face, and per- 
haps she was cold and dead, like the other toys ; but 
perhaps she was only asleep and dreaming. The old 
huntsman took the boy by the hand, and they both 
strode sturdily on towards the forest. On the way 
Gustave had to tell again the story of the previous 
night, and the old man, who had at first scarcely cred- 
ited what the boy told him of the moving toys, shook 
his head thoughtfully and said : “ My child, you have 
a nature sensitive to things that would never stir the 
imagination of a common man, therefore the forest 
will be an open book for you, and you will learn and 
understand much from the rustle of the leaves, the 
odour of the violet, the ripple of the mountain-brook, 
and from a thousand other things. Oh, the forest is 
so fair, so sacredly fair !” 

Thus talking, they arrived, as the sun began to de- 
scend, at the Keeper’s cottage, which stood upon an 
eminence in the middle of the forest. Although 
winter had robbed the poor trees of their brightest 
attire, and although they stood sadly with their 
naked boughs trembling with cold, the boy thought 


3 2 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


it far more grand and glorious here than among 
the gloomy houses of the town. Here, in the forest, 
the ground was covered with white snow, from which 
only little black stalks and moss peeped curiously 
forth, begging Brother Wind to brush the snow 
from their stems. The boughs of the large trees, 
particularly the hemlocks, were heavy with snow, and 
hung low down; and yet one could look beneath 
them far into the depths of the wood. How merrily the 
roes sprang about! And sometimes a strong, stately 
stag would stand still for a moment, listening to the 
approaching footsteps, and then, with a couple of 
bounds, vanish into the thicket. 

The sun set slowly, and threw its red, glowing beams 
deep into the wood, so that one side of the trees looked 
golden. A fine, blue mist arose from the valleys 
which grew grayer and darker, and, when the man 
and boy were near the forest-house, it had become 
dark as midnight, and through the gloom shone the 
light of a lamp like a guiding star. This the hunts- 
man pointed out to Gustave, and told him that where 
that shone his home would be. As they approached it, 
some great dogs began to bark loudly, and sprang joy- 
fully towards the new-comers. An old woman, the 
huntsman’s sister, opened the door, and, when her 
brother told her the boy’s story, and how he had taken 
him from a cruel mistress, she stroked the lad’s hair 
kindly and gave him a cordial welcome. Ah ! poor 
Gustave had never passed so happy and comfortable an 
evening, as this in the forester’s cottage. He could sit by 
the bright blazing fire, and, instead of the harsh words 
that he had been used to, the huntsman listened kindly 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


33 


to his childish questions and talked with him, and even 
the great dogs came and laid their heads upon his 
knee and looked confidingly at him with their large, 
shining eyes. 

When it was time to retire, he was not sent, as in 
the merchant’s house, to a miserable sack of straw 
under the roof, but the forester’s sister made him a 
nice bed in a pretty little room, where he could pass 
the night, and wished him a good-night too, which 
had never happened to him in his life before, so he 
went quietly and gently to sleep. 

Never had he slept so well in his life ; he dreamed 
of all kinds of lovely things, and once in his dreams 
Regent Nutcracker appeared to him, and, grinning at 
him, showed his teeth and said, laughing scornfully, 
“ Do you see, do you see, — to be sure we are broken 
and spoiled by naughty children; but the gracious 
Princess reposes far under the ground, and you will 
never see her again, — ha ! ha ! ha ! ” This made the boy 
very sad, and he felt the tears rolling down his cheeks 
in his sleep ; but then the Nutcracker vanished sud- 
denly again, and he saw the little lady lying back upon 
the silken cushions of her carriage, leaning her head 
upon her hand and sleeping quietly. The head of the 
coachman upon the box was bent forward upon his 
breast, and the horses stood still with closed eyes. 

But the winter morning’s kindly sun scared away 
these varied dreams from the boy’s couch, and he 
awakened gay and happy. The huntsman soon called 
him and took him into the forest, where he showed 
him how the little trees were growing out of the 
ground, and how the various animals left their foot- 
c 


34 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


prints in the snow, — told him that there a noble 
stag had passed, that these were the footprints of 
a roe, and that here Master Reynard had scampered 
past, after killing a cock or a young hare. And al- 
though the boy listened attentively to all that the old 
man told him, he was most interested in observing the 
tracks of the fox, for he always remembered the pretty 
little lady, and thought how he might find her again if 
the old fox should ever return to his dwelling and 
manage to get in. 

The old huntsman’s affection for the boy continued 
to increase, — he taught him something new every 
day, and nothing pleased Gustave more than to 
wander through the forest. But when the spring 
came, and with the disappearance of frost and snow 
the earth grew green and young, he did indeed 
delight in his forest life. For the first time he saw 
how the buds of the trees swelled larger and larger, 
until some warm wind would kiss them open and the 
tender little leaves peeped out, and, when free from 
their prison, began to grow lustily, and soon shaded 
the delicate, mossy covering of the ground. He could 
have watched for hours the young trees which, spring- 
ing from the earth, became stronger and taller from 
day to day. And just so he grew himself, and became, 
under the kind care of the huntsman, and in the 
pure air of the forest, big and strong. Weeks and 
months passed, and several Christmas-days had come 
and gone, and upon these days Gustave thought more 
steadily and earnestly, than at any other time, of the 
night when he wandered forth with the toys. Some- 
times he visited the merchant’s house in the town, and 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


35 


upon the way always looked for the fox-hole in which 
the beautiful little lady was sleeping; but distinctly 
as he remembered all about it, he searched in vain for 
the place where the brave Regent Nutcracker had dis- 
mounted from his camel and disappeared with his train 
within the hillock. He did not much like to visit 
the town, for they did not seem very glad to see him 
in the merchant’s house, and he preferred to stay in 
his forest-home with his dogs, who loved him dearly. 
The only relic of former times which he possessed was 
the little ring which the Princess had given him, and 
which he prized highly. He wore it attached to a 
riband around his neck. 

Thus Gustave got to be sixteen years old, and be- 
came a skilful huntsman. As his adopted father, the 
forester, grew aged and infirm, he remained much at 
home, and Gustave went about the forest alone, ac- 
companied by his dogs, with his trusty gun upon his 
shoulder and his sharp, shining hunting-knife by his 
side. 

One day he was sauntering about under the trees, 
and, as was often the case, with no thoughts of en- 
trapping game — he let the stags and roes, unmo- 
lested, cross his path, — walked slowly along, sunk 
in a reverie, in which the little lady in the white silk 
dress played a principal part. He went on until he 
ascended an eminence where the trees were not so 
thick, and whence he could look abroad and survey 
the country all around. There, under one of the 
stoutest oaks, the youth saw an old man sitting with 
several pieces of snow-white hemlock and linden-wood 
by his side, from which he was carving all sorts of 


S 6 


THE ELFIN TREE . 


figures and articles with his knife. He had made 
spoons and forks, animals, and even human figures, all 
fashioned as delicately and naturally as possible. The 
young huntsman approached, and bidding the old man 
a friendly good-morning, which was kindly returned, 
he entered into conversation with him. 

“Ah!” said Gustave, “you are carving beautiful 
things there, and they will bring a good price in the 
town.” 

“Yes,” replied the old man, “I work here in the 
open air, with glorious nature all around me, for this 
is the finest and cheapest work-shop that can be had ; 
and my living is no great expense to me, for the brook 
ripples past me down the hill, murmuring, as its goes, 
* Come, old fellow, drink me.’ And then the straw- 
berries and blackberries nod to me from the bushes, 
and invite me to dine ; and when night comes I draw 
my cloak over my head, lie down upon the moss and 
sleep, commending myself to God.” 

“But,” rejoined the youth, “is your artistic labour 
so unprofitable that you are forced to lead such a 
life?” 

“Ah! my dear huntsman,” said the wood-carver, 
“ there are so many people who work as artistically, as 
you call it, and even more so, that it is hard to make 
anything by my labour. But, if I should be lucky 
enough to find, for example, some of the wood of the 
Elfin Tree, I could earn something indeed, only this 
tree is so very rare, and those who find it do not know 
how to use it.” 

“What!” asked the huntsman, “the Elfin Tree? 
The name is an odd one, and, although I know all 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


37 

the trees and shrubs in the forest, I have never heard 
of it.” 

“I can readily believe that,” laughed the old man. 
“ People do not usually prate about everything as stu- 
pidly as I do. But your face is so honest and inno- 
cent that I seemed to be speaking to the open sky, and 
the words escaped me I know not how, — forget them.” 

But at the mention of this wonderful tree, a thrill 
shot through the young huntsman’s soul and awakened 
strange desires and thoughts there, which he could not 
understand. He was so desirous to know something 
more of the Elfin Tree that he did not cease to ques- 
tion the old man until the latter said, laughing, “Well, 
well, you are a curious fellow, but as you look so 
honest and open, and do not belong to my trade, I 
will tell you all that I know of the Elfin Tree, — only 
you must promise,” added the wood-carver, laughing, 
“ that if you should ever be fortunate enough to find 
such a tree (which is not impossible, for huntsmen 
tramping around through night and mist, see and hear 
all kinds of things), you will let me have some of the 
wood.” 

After Gustave had given the wood-carver this prom- 
ise, the latter took a fresh piece of wood, and, as he 
began carving a spoon out of it, gave the young hunts- 
man the following account : 

“ You know well that, besides the human race, there 
live a great number of other creatures upon and under 
the earth, who look like human beings, although they 
are a great deal smaller and weaker in body. But in 
spirit they are far more powerful than we, and perform 
much which we mortals would gladly imitate, but 
4 


38 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


which our coarse physical nature renders impossible. 
To these beings belong, to begin with the meanest, 
the Brownies, a spiteful race,” he added, in a low 
tone, looking carefully around him, “impudent, vulgar 
creatures, who do all the harm they can to men and 
animals. These Brownies are called Root-men, for they 
look like black radishes split in two below, and have 
green hair that grows out like leaves. After them 
come the Kobolds, — crooked, dumpy fellows, — better 
than the others, however, for, although they are bad 
and malicious, it sometimes happens that they take a 
fancy to some mortal and assist him from time to time. 
These are followed by the Dwarfs, an honest, brave race, 
but very capricious, who often worry both men and 
beasts for very wantonness. But the best, noblest, and 
most beautiful class of these beings are the Elves, in 
whose hearts there is neither caprice nor treachery, but 
who hover around the fragrant herbs and flowers of the 
forest in the night, and refresh the soul of the mortal, 
who is fortunate enough to hear them, with their won- 
drous and bewitching songs. They hold themselves 
aloof from but do not fear the Dwarfs and Kobolds, 
whose greater brute force is no match for the powerful 
magic art of the Elves. Notwithstanding that the Elves 
are more beautiful and better than mortals, it fre- 
quently happens that an Elfin maiden becomes enam- 
oured of a mortal man and reveals herself to him on 
summer nights to jest and play with him. But this 
cannot last long, for either the mortal faithlessly for- 
sakes the poor Elf, or she must leave him, and endure 
the cruel punishment awarded to those who fall in love 
with mortals. She is changed for a hundred years into a 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


39 


l-ree, and thus must constantly witness the merry sports 
of her sisters, who, in stormy weather, can slip into their 
palaces of crystal, while she remains outside, her 
tender limbs, which are only fitted for clear moon- 
light and warm summer air, exposed to biting winds 
and frosts. These trees grow in the most unfrequented 
paths, or in deep abysses, and there is a magic circle 
drawn around them which almost always causes men 
involuntarily to avoid their neighbourhood, and be- 
. sides the Elfin Tree looks like a common hemlock, so 
that one might pass it a hundred times without notic- 
ing it. But whoever is, by any chance, fortunate 
enough to find such a tree, may consider himself born 
under a lucky star indeed, for see, my young huntsman, 
I labour hard enough to carve out these little matters 
from this wood, but whoever gets a piece of the Elfin 
Tree has only to frame the wish and in one moment he 
can complete whatever figure he will, be it man or 
beast, and the work is artistic indeed. And, what is 
more,” he added in a whisper, “the figures carved out 
of this wood can come to life on Christmas-eve, if only 
an evil spell resting upon them is removed, and then 
whoever understands questioning them can discover 
whatever he wishes, — they will tell, for example, where 
gold is to be found, where hidden treasure is buried, 
and such like.” 

The young huntsman had listened attentively to this 
narrative, and it may readily be imagined that he re- 
membered the beautiful little white lady, — as well as Sir 
Nutcracker, — and all the little assemblage, and he 
thought it not improbable that they might all have 
been made out of the wood of the Elfin Tree which 


40 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


some one had found without knowing it. He hesitated 
for awhile whether he should make known his strange 
adventure to the old wood-carver, but at last determined 
to give him the history of that far-off Christmas night, 
for it seemed to be his duty to do so when the old man 
had reposed such confidence in him, in telling him all 
about the Elfin Tree. 

But how shall I describe the old man’s astonishment 
when Gustave told him all, — how he had killed the evil 
sorcerer, and how the whole company had left the house 
to go out into the world ; how he had accompanied them 
and had helped them to chase away the fox, in whose 
hole the whole assemblage had disappeared ! In short, 
he told him everything most minutely, and at last ex- 
pressed his conviction that the little lady in the white 
silk dress was still asleep under ground, and might yet 
be released. When he had finished, the old man sprang 
up, shouting for joy, and embraced the young hunts- 
man, while he assured him that he was one of Fortune’s 
favourites, and must at least come to be a great lord in 
the land. 

After he had given vent to his joy for awhile, he sat 
down quietly beside Gustave, leaned his head upon his 
hand, and becoming more serious said, “Alas! alas! 
old fool that I am, I forgot that we shall never be able 
to bring out the little lady from the earth and disen- 
chant her, for to do this we need another Elfin Tree, 
which I am afraid neither of us can ever find.” 

These words came like a thunder-clap to poor 
Gustave, who already saw in imagination the little 
Princess coming forth from the ground, and grow- 
ing larger and larger, and, before he knew it, he 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


41 


had taken her in his arms and kissed her charming 
rosy lips — all in imagination, you see. But his dreams 
were all dispelled, and he only half listened while the 
old man told how a number of cones from the Elfin 
Tree must be planted upon the spot of ground beneath 
which the little lady was sleeping. 

“The first midnight after they are planted,” he 
said, “there spring from them little trees which grow 
no larger above ground, but whose roots dive deep 
into the earth and thrust and stretch themselves out 
far on every side. Thus they would entirely surround 
with their net-work the couch where the little lady 
sleeps, and the tree would then pour out all the power 
and force, which it might have used in growing to 
be a lofty, strong tree, upon the little Princess, 
whom it would thus reanimate, and she would grow 
taller and lovelier, until she issued from her prison- 
house of mortal size and blooming in the rarest beauty. 
Most certainly,” the old man added, “you would then 
be the happiest of men, for the maiden would combine 
with the beauty of an Elf, the constancy and wisdom of 
the Elfin race. The ring which she gave you, and which 
you have kept so faithfully, has alone protected her, 
and prevented her from losing her life with Regent 
Nutcracker and the other figures, and this ring it is 
which will bind her to you all her life long.” 

In the mean while the sun had set and it began to be 
very dark night. So the huntsman arose, and bidding 
the old man good-night, said that his foster-parents 
were waiting for him at home, and would be anxious if 
he stayed so late in the forest. Then they agreed to 
4 * 


42 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


meet at the same time and upon the same spot three 
days afterwards to consult how they might try to find 
the Elfin Tree. The old man was more sanguine than 
Gustave and sought to inspire him with hope. But the 
latter shook his head mournfully, and said, as he de- 
parted, “Ah, I must wander sadly through the forest 
all my life long, and shall never again see the lovely 
little lady whom I love so truly and deeply.” 

Thus they separated, and the huntsman, who had not 
remembered how great was the distance from home, 
now saw that he had so far to go that it would be very 
late before he could reach it. It was the first time 
that he had been alone in the woods so late at night, 
and although he had no fear of robbers or any such 
thing, still he had on his way home to pass through 
a small but deep glen, which was regarded with sus- 
picion as not all right by the country people. They 
maintained that the Dwarfs held their nightly meetings 
there, and ill treated any mortal who saw them at such 
times. The huntsman thought of these stories as he 
strode on through the forest. But he seized his gun 
firmly, remembered the little lady, and was not afraid. 
When he had walked some distance, the moon rose 
slowly upon his path and glittered mildly through the 
green boughs before him. She shone into his face, 
so that whether he would or not he had to gaze upon 
her full orb. Thus he gradually approached the 
glen which the Dwarfs frequented, and soon saw it 
lying dark before him. He entered it boldly with- 
out fear, and had nearly passed through it when he 
heard the noise of an axe upon the hills which bor- 
dered his path upon one side. Involuntarily he stayed 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


45 

his footsteps and thought to himself that it was strange 
that any one should be cutting wood here so late at 
night. And then a suspicion entered his mind that it 
might be thieves, who were using the silence of night 
to rob his adopted father, so he immediately turned 
towards the side whence the sound proceeded and 
began to ascend the hill. But when he had reached 
the spot where he thought he should find the trespasser, 
he heard the sound of the axe far beyond him. With- 
out stopping to think, he followed the noise, and, after 
he had climbed up and down several hills, he became 
convinced that the sound was much nearer than before ; 
but just when he thought that he could not possibly be 
more than several steps from it, it suddenly ceased and 
a cry was heard very much like the violent weeping of 
a child. The huntsman quickly hurried towards this 
new sound, and soon stepped out upon a little open 
space and stood chained to the spot with wonder at 
what he saw. 

In the midst of this space was to be seen the stump 
of a tolerably large hemlock, the trunk and branches 
of which lay cut off upon the ground ; but beside the 
stump stood a Dwarf scarcely two feet high, who held 
a little axe in his hand, with which he had, as it seemed, 
just cut down the hemlock. At first the huntsman 
was not a little amazed to see the Dwarf jumping wildly 
around the stump like mad while he uttered the above- 
mentioned cries. But, upon a nearer approach, he 
found to his astonishment that the Dwarf’s beard, which 
was almost as long as his whole body, was caught fast 
in a split of the wood. In vain the little man seized 
it with both hands and tried to pull it out, and as often 


44 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


as he made the attempt he cried out aloud and made 
the strangest hops into the air. 

After the huntsman had watched the little fellow for 
a few moments, he drew near him and asked him civilly 
how he came to this pass. The Dwarf regarded him 
for a moment with his little red eyes, then rolled out 
a shower of curses, and told the youth that it was not 
his part to ask such stupid questions, but to release 
him instantly. In spite of this uncivil reply, Gustave 
was inclined, in his good humour, to assist him, and 
with this purpose picked up from the ground a large 
wedge, with which the Dwarf had apparently attempted 
to split the tree. 

Scarcely had the huntsman picked up the wedge 
from the ground when the Dwarf cried out angrily to 
him, “Can’t you hurry, you stupid, lazy fellow? You 
mortals are good for nothing. Be quick, or I will 
help you.” At these last words the little man lifted 
one of his little legs, and in his rage kicked at the 
huntsman, who, although he had thought the first in- 
solent speech made by the Dwarf excessively ridiculous, 
was now provoked at the little thing’s impudence, and 
said, “ Hearken, little rogue, if it is your way to ask 
a favour in this style, it is ours not to grant it when so 
asked, and if you are not immediately more quiet and 
civil, I’ve a great mind to leave you where you are.” 

Then the Dwarf fell into an indescribable rage ; his 
eyes fairly flashed in his head ; he roared out the most 
frightful curses at the huntsman, and at last even seized 
his axe and threw it at the head of the young man 
with such violence that, if he had not sprung aside, he 
would have been killed. As it was, it flew against the 



“ Then the Dwarf fell into an indescribable rage ; his eyes fairly flashed 

in his head.” 


Page 44. 




THE ELFIN TREE . 


45 

trunk of an oak, in which it stuck fast with its handle 
trembling. 

“Ahl” said the huntsman, “if this is your game, 
I shall act accordingly.” And then he drew his long, 
broad hunting-knife from his girdle, upon the blade of 
which he had, like a pious forester, engraved a cross, 
and with the flat of it belaboured the little fellow stoutly. 

At first the Dwarf’s rage seemed every moment to 
increase at this summary treatment. He twisted and 
turned like an eel to escape the heavy blows; but, 
turn as he would, the huntsman knew how to choose 
the right time and spot, and not one of his blows went 
astray, — so the little fellow grew quieter by-and-by. 
From abuse he fell to weeping, and before long he 
begged most movingly that the huntsman would desist 
and release him. 

Gustave, who was very good-humoured, did desist 
at these entreaties, and, seizing the wedge again, was 
about to open the split in the tree when the thought 
suddenly occurred to him, “ Why cannot I make it a 
condition of the Dwarf’s release that he shall show me 
where to find an Elfin Tree ?” No sooner thought than 
done. He took the wedge in his hand and told the 
Dwarf what he desired. At first the little fellow pre- 
tended to know nothing about it, and declared 
peevishly that he could not help him. 

“Well,” said the hunter, “if you will not tell me 
voluntarily where to find such a tree, I will force you 
to do so,” and he dropped the wedge and took out his 
hunting-knife again. 

“Let that alone ! let that alone !” shrieked the Dwarf, 
in the greatest distress, when he saw this movement, 


46 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


“do let that alone, for this very tree that is holding me 
fast by my beautiful beard is an Elfin Tree !” 

You can easily imagine the joy with which the hunts- 
man let go his hunting-knife, and once more took up 
the wedge to release the Dwarf. He seemed now near 
the fulfilment of his dearest wishes ; he would be able 
to reanimate and release the beautiful little lady. He 
hastily tore the little axe from the oak tree, and with a 
few blows he had driven the wedge so far into the 
hemlock stump that the Dwarf could pull out his beard. 
But no sooner had the little fellow recovered his lib- 
erty than, with a hearty curse, he sprang into the 
thicket and vanished among the trees. 

Gustave quietly let him go his way, while with the 
Dwarf’s axe he cut off a large block of the Elfin Tree, 
and filled his pocket with the most beautiful cones that 
were to be found upon the branches of the hemlock. 
Then he took his gun upon his shoulder and went 
hastily home. 

His foster-parents were not a little anxious about 
him. He told them that he had wandered too far 
into the wood, and, as he had returned so cheerful and 
bright, they went to bed and to sleep quiet and happy. 
Gustave, however, instead of following their example, 
took the little terriers who had formerly dragged forth 
Regent Nutcracker and the soldiers from the fox- 
hole and hurried with them out to the heath, hoping, 
with their assistance, to find the spot beneath which 
the beautiful little lady was sleeping. But he could 
hardly have gained his end without the assistance 
of the cones of the Elfin Tree, for the dogs ran hither 
and thither over the plain, while Gustave felt him- 


THE ELFIN TREE . 


47 


self impelled by some invisible power towards a 
certain spot, and he was shortly convinced that this 
was the place he had so long sought for. 

It was about midnight when he drew out of his 
pocket one of the hemlock cones and stuck it into the 
ground. He still doubted the success of his under- 
taking, and his astonishment was great when he sud- 
denly saw a little hemlock tree spring up before him, 
which, although only a few inches high, was in every 
respect a perfect miniature full-grown tree. Gustave 
could hardly restrain his joy when he saw thus how 
near was the deliverance of the beautiful little lady. 

After three days, he set out to find the wood-carver 
at the appointed time and place. But first he searched 
through the wood to try to find the place where he had 
released the Dwarf, that he might procure some more 
of the wonderful wood of the Elfin Tree. But, although 
he found the place again, he could see nothing where 
the stump had stood but a dirty little swamp filled with 
frogs and other reptiles, who lifted their heads and 
croaked at him. He turned quickly away and sought 
the opening in the forest where he had met the old 
man, and where he now met him again. The wood- 
carver was very melancholy, and informed him that, in 
spite of all his exertions, he had been unable to find 
any clue to where he should find an Elfin Tree. He 
told Gustave, however, that he had visited the mer- 
chant’s house in the town, where he had found, among 
some other toys, a Nutcracker, who was apparently the 
same who had come to life on that Christmas-eve. He 
drew him out, and Gustave recognized him instantly. 
But how was the noble Nutcracker altered ! His red 


48 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


breeches had become black, his spurs were broken off, 
and his sabre was entirely gone; and, although his 
mouth was as large as ever, those long, sharp teeth 
which had so adorned it were gone, broken out, and, 
when Gustave lifted his queue, he found that his jaw 
was fixed and could not be closed again. 

Gustave purposely waited for awhile before he told 
the old man what had happened to him within the 
last three days. How great was the wood-carver’s joy 
when he heard it all ! He sprang up, fell upon the 
young huntsman’s neck, and when the latter drew 
forth the block of the Elfin Tree the old man seized it, 
put it into his pouch, and promised shortly, when they 
were needed, to make the most beautiful things out of it. 

And now the pair consulted what was further to be 
done, and the wood-carver told the huntsman that he 
must let the little hemlock tree, sprung from the cone, 
grow quietly, until after a certain time it would sud- 
denly begin to shoot up into the air, and “then the 
third night afterwards it will disclose an opening in its 
roots and give free egress to the enchanted Princess. 
And when this shall take place I will return, wherever 
I may be at the time, for the smallest splinter of the 
Elfin Tree will warn me exactly of the hour.” 

After this consultation they shook hands, and, taking 
a cordial leave of each other, one went one way and 
the other another. 

Just about this time the adopted father of the young 
huntsman often declared to his sister that it was time 
to look about for a wife for Gustave, and the old 
man insisted that she must possess every possible 
good quality : she must be clever and beautiful, and, 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


49 


besides, the forester thought that it would do no harm 
if she should be provided with some money. But he 
had never been able to find such a one, for when now 
and then he had taken a fancy to one of the neigh- 
bours’ daughters and mentioned the matter to her 
parents, they always replied, “Yes, my dear friend, 
we should not oppose such an arrangement if the 
young huntsman were really your son, but we should 
not like to give our daughter to any one so entirely 
without birth and parentage*” This would vex the old 
man, and he would go home and tell it all to his sister 
and Gustave. But the young man would always smile 
and say, “Ah, dearest father, take no trouble on my 
account, I shall find what God has destined for me.” 
And with these words he would cast a stolen glance 
through the window towards the heath where the little 
hemlock tree stood, which, however, had not yet 
begun to grow tall. 

Several months had passed since he had seen the 
wood-carver, and the leaves of the trees began to grow 
yellow and fall off, — thick mists, too, shrouded the 
forest in the mornings and evenings, and the huntsmen 
were busied with the chase all day long. But, how- 
ever weary Gustave might be when returning home in 
the evening, he never failed to cross the heath and 
look after his little hemlock tree. Thus November 
passed. December came, and the people of the town 
sent every day to the foresters for hemlocks for Christ- 
mas-trees. The young huntsman, in whose faithful 
breast the image of the lovely lady in the white 
silk dress was more vivid than ever, hoped for a gift 
under his hemlock tree. He went out upon the heath 
d 5 


5 ° 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


to watch it several times a day, and great indeed was 
his joy when, three days before Christmas, he found 
that it had grown at least a foot. 

And now scarcely an hour of the day passed without 
his watching it, and the boughs and branches grew and 
spread almost perceptibly before his eyes. Thus the 
holy Christmas-eve approached. The old huntsman told 
his foster-son, with a sly smile, that he had better go 
out into the forest and attend to something that needed 
care. Gustave, who knew that this was because the old 
man wished to-night to prepare for him, as on every 
previous year, a Christmas surprise, said to himself, 
with a quiet smile, “ Please God, I shall present you 
this evening with a gift that will delight you indeed,’ * 
and with a heart full of expectation, love, and rapture, 
he hastened out upon the heath. 

The old forester, with his sister, went into the guest- 
chamber, which was furnished with large carved tables 
and chairs, and its walls hung with huge stags’ antlers. 
There stood a tall hemlock covered with candles, and 
stuck in the top of it fluttered and waved two large 
golden flags. Under the tree the forester’s sister 
placed a beautiful new huntsman’s dress and a new rifle 
richly mounted and inlaid with silver. Without, the 
north wind howled through the branches of the trees, 
and the mountain-brooks made strange murmurings. 
Then suddenly the forester put his hand to his ear, for 
he seemed to hear the wheels of a distant carriage. 

“Hark!” he said to his sister, “do you hear 
nothing ? It seems to me that even at this late hour a 
carriage is driving up the broad forest-pathway. 

Then the sister hastened to the window. The noise 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


51 


of wheels drew nearer, and she cried out, “You are 
right — look ! there comes a carriage through the forest, 
and it is coming directly here. Now it is stopping at 
the gate. Who can it be?” 

Then the door of the room was thrown open, and 
Gustave entered, leading by the hand a beautiful lady, 
who wore a white silk dress, and upon her head a 
myrtle wreath with a long, flowing veil. 

“Look, father!” cried the young huntsman, joy- 
fully, “ this is my lovely bride, whom I hope you will 
welcome as a daughter.” 

The maiden was so lovely and charming to behold, 
that the old forester and his sister when they took her 
by the hand knew not what to say. And, when the 
maiden spoke, her voice sounded like silver bells, and 
she said, “I pray you receive me and let me be your 
dear daughter.” So they were too much delighted to 
think who she was or whence she came, but they wept 
tears of joy and embraced her most tenderly. 

In the midst of their rejoicing, Gustave thought of 
his friend, the old wood-carver, and regretted that he 
was not present. But, accidentally looking out of the 
window, he saw a man in the moonlight coming across 
the hill in front of the forester’s dwelling, carrying 
upon his back a basket, which he put down and began 
to unpack, as though he were about to distribute Christ- 
mas gifts among the animals in the forest. The young 
huntsman saw with astonishment that he took out and 
placed upon the ground a pretty little castle, whose 
neat windows were suddenly illuminated from within. 
Then the man arose and approached the forester’s 
house with hasty strides, and, as he did so, Gustave 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


5 * 

saw, to his great delight, that it was his friend, the 
wood-carver. But how can I describe his surprise and 
wonder when he saw that, as this old friend left the 
castle behind him, the little toy grew larger and larger, 
and at last became a stately edifice ! The windows 
glowed with thousands of lights burning inside ; great 
torches of pitch were blazing at the gates, before 
which stood soldiers with bear-skin caps and their 
guns upon their shoulders. And now the wood-carver 
opened the forester’s door, and, seeing the beautiful 
young maiden, he made a low bow, and then em- 
braced the young huntsman, saying, “ I see with de- 
light that you have removed the evil spell. I have 
done my part, and used the Elfin wood which you gave 
me to the best advantage.” And then he pointed 
through the window to the beautiful castle. 

The old forester did not know what to say for very 
joy, and, when all went out and ascended the hill to 
visit the new and splendid castle, he thought he was 
dreaming a lovely dream. Everything here was as 
finely ordered and as well arranged as in the palace of 
the mightiest king. The young huntsman thought he 
recognized old acquaintances in the soldiers with bear- 
skin caps, who presented arms before his bride and 
himself at the castle-gates, and the tall huntsman who 
stood at the head of the steps and tore open the great 
doors seemed also strangely familiar. But when they 
came to the grand staircase leading to the splendid 
apartments, the young huntsman, who was now called 
Prince Gustave, laughed aloud, for there stood Regent 
Nutcracker as large as life with two silver candlesticks 
in his hands. He made a low bow and announced 


THE ELFIN TREE. 


53 


that he was the chief Steward, and hoped to win their 
Graces favour. His dress, which had been very much 
spoiled by the merchant’s children, had been repaired 
as well as possible. But the spurs and sabre were gone, 
and, instead of a hat, he wore a coloured cap trimmed 
with bells, which jingled merrily. 

And now all ascended the grand staircase, and the 
marriage was celebrated with great pomp, and they all 
lived together many, many years in peace and happi- 
ness, — indeed they must be living still, if they have 
not died since/ 


THE DWARFS’ NEST. 


Once upon a time there lived a man, a weaver by 
trade, who was accustomed to procure from the mer- 
chants of the town where he dwelt quantities of raw 
material in silk and wool, which he wove at his own 
house into beautiful fabrics. But as life in a town, 
although ever so economical and in the poorest hovel, 
was too expensive for his small means, he looked about 
for a dwelling somewhere else, and found one at last, 
which, although wretched and poverty-stricken enough 
in appearance, afforded him at least a shelter from 
wind and weather. 

This dwelling stood in the neighbourhood of a vil- 
lage near the city, and was a rickety little hut, jutting 
out from the side of an old stone wall, which had been 
part, in old times, it was said, of a dungeon, and had 
belonged to an extensive castle, whose ruins were yet 
to be seen in an adjacent field. Close to this dungeon 
wall, the village shepherd had, some time before the 
beginning of our story, built a small house and lived in 
it, that he might be near his flock who found excellent 
pasturage among the ruins, where rich grass and weeds 
grew luxuriantly between the black, crumbling stones. 

( 54 ) 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


55 


But the shepherd had not lived there long when very 
odd circumstances forced him to abandon his little 
dwelling. Sometimes, for instance, in the middle of 
the night there would be such an uproar and com- 
motion among his sheep, lying partly around his 
hut and partly in the court-yard of the ruined castle, 
that one would have supposed a dozen wolves to be 
loose among them. The poor animals would bleat most 
piteously and rush hither and thither in the wildest 
terror, and away through the fields wherever they 
could find an opening in the old walls. Then the 
shepherd was obliged to whistle and call to them with 
all his might, but the animals, usually so docile and 
obedient to his call, would no longer listen to him. 
In their flight they often missed their way and would, 
at times, fall and perish miserably among the ruins. 
The shepherd’s dogs, that often battled with and drove 
away the wolves from the sheep in the daytime, when 
this uproar began in the middle of the night, put their 
tails between their legs, howling with terror, and 
neither coaxing nor blows could induce them to go 
among the sheep and restore order. The shepherd, by 
no means a timorous man, was driven to desperation by 
the loss of his sheep, and being, of course, wakeful and 
on the watch at night, would rush out of his hut at the 
first beginning of the tumult, which usually took place 
on a moonlight night. But although it was so light that 
everything around showed clear and distinct, he could 
never discover either man or beast to terrify his flock. 
And yet it seemed to him sometimes that, while he was 
running hither and thither among the sheep, he could 
now and then hear a low laugh, or a faint halloo ? like the 


THE DWARFS ’ NEST. 


56 

distant shout of the hunters when they are following 
the chase in the forest. 

After several of the villagers, who at first were sus- 
picious of the shepherd when their sheep were lost, had 
shared his nightly watch with him, and had seen the 
strange commotion among the flock with their own 
eyes upon many a moonlight night and heard the faint 
shouts and laughter with their own ears, they became 
convinced that it was all the work of the Brownies or 
Dwarfs, who had from time immemorial inhabited the 
neighbouring rocks and caves, and who were thus 
having a hunt for their own pleasure at the expense 
of the poor shepherd. This was not the first time that 
they had come forth and teased and annoyed human 
beings by their pranks and tricks. They had been seen 
many a time by the old and young of the village as 
they went to, or returned from, the yearly fair in the 
neighbouring town, or when they took some little 
journey into the surrounding country. On these occa- 
sions they often had to go through little green glades 
in the forest, carpeted with fresh moss and encompassed 
by ancient oaks. When in the midst of such a place a 
single great tree stood with spreading branches, form- 
ing a leafy tower, it was sure to be a resort of the 
Brownies, and they would come here in crowds when 
the first rays of the full moon shone over the hills, to 
have a dance and to feast. Old hunters, who, in pur- 
suing a stag, had often been near these places late at 
night, would tell of the tricks and dances of the little 
people, and could not say enough of their grace and 
wonderful agility. But such an unbidden spectator had 
to lie perfectly quiet in some place of concealment, for 


THE DWARFS • NEST. 


57 


if the sharp eyes and ears of the Dwarfs detected him, 
they would stop their revels instantly and vanish 
through the air, making a noise in their flight like that 
of a swarm of bees hovering over a field of flowers. 

Sometimes it happened, when an inquisitive ob- 
server incautiously approached too near the little 
people, that while the Dwarfs were vanishing, he 
was so cuffed and boxed on the ear by invisible 
hands that he fell, stunned, to the ground, and 
awoke the next morning with his face covered with 
bruises all black and blue. 

For a long time the Dwarfs conducted their revels 
at a distance from the habitations of mankind. But, 
as many of the forests had been thinned out and 
most of the fine old trees cut down, they selected the 
ruins for their haunt, for the nature of the place 
offered no temptation to the greed of avaricious 
men. Here it was very difficult to see them in 
their nightly dances, for, since they had been driven 
from their quiet forest-glades, they had grown more 
prudent, and were seldom visible to human eyes when 
they danced, and the example of mortals had taught 
them to be more malicious, so that it rarely happened 
that any one was able to watch them unobserved. 
Thus faith in the existence of the little people had 
grown somewhat dim, and even if some inquisitive 
fellow showed his bruises in the morning and told of 
his adventures with the Brownies, the villagers laughed 
at him and declared that his face was bruised by the 
cover of the beer-can. 

But the shepherd’s experience again drew attention 
to the little men, and the owners of the sheep, who had 


THE DWARFS' NEST \ 


S8 

lost quite a number, decided that they must resign the 
field to the Dwarfs, and leave them undisturbed in the 
old ruin, their place of refuge. Accordingly the shep- 
herd left his hut and took his flock elsewhere, and the 
Dwarfs soon showed that they were not in the least 
implacable, for, as soon as they were left to pursue 
their midnight revels undisturbed by the bleating and 
trampling of the sheep, they, by their magic arts, 
caused the flock to thrive and increase, so that those 
villagers who had suffered loss were soon amply in- 
demnified. 

In the meanwhile the shepherd’s hut stood empty, 
and, although it had never been in a very habitable 
condition, it was now worse than ever. The windows 
were broken, and the sun, moon, wind, and rain pene- 
trated into both rooms. But the walls, which were 
built of sods, were firmer than before, for the sods had 
grown together, and there was such a thicket of weeds 
and garden vegetables all around that from a distance 
the place looked like a great, green bird’s-nest, and, in 
memory of the little people, the villagers called it 
the “ Dwarfs’ Nest,” and the neighbouring ruin the 
“ Dwarfs’ Castle.” 

Thus the house had been standing for some years 
empty, when the weaver, of whom you have heard 
above, returned home after a long absence from the 
place of his birth. As all his near relatives and friends 
had died in the mean time, and his parents had be- 
come very poor before their death, the distant relatives 
of the young man, who were still living, would have 
nothing to do with him, and not one could be found 
who would even rent him a small room, where he 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


59 


might set up his loom and support himself by the work 
of his hands. They had another ground for their be- 
haviour. The weaver’s father, who had been a game- 
keeper, had married a collier’s daughter, who was 
skilled in the knowledge of healing-herbs, and had, 
therefore, been shunned and maligned by everybody 
as a witch, although she had never done any harm to 
any one. This reputation her son shared, for the 
women of the village had always regarded him, when 
a boy, with envy, because, while their own children 
were often sick and puny, the game-keeper’s son, 
little Conrad, rejoiced in robust health and strength, 
and was the handsomest boy that could be imagined. 
As his parents had fortunately lived long enough to 
provide for him during his long apprenticeship to a 
master - weaver in the town until he started on his 
travels as a journeyman, he had needed nothing, and 
had never been obliged to maintain himself. But 
scarcely had these good people received two or three 
letters from him in his first absence after the well- 
spent period of his apprenticeship — letters that told 
how content his present master was with him and 
his work — when they died, leaving their son nothing, 
for their little furniture was seized by their avaricious 
neighbours to defray the funeral expenses. 

At last Conrad, having learned much of men and 
manners in many parts of the country, returned, and 
wished to set up his loom in his native village. 
But, as we have said before, no one would have 
anything to do with him, and if that love which is 
common to all for the place of one’s birth had not 
bound him to this village, and prevented him from 


6o 


THE DWARF'S NEST. 


leaving the place where his parents were buried, he 
would have turned his back upon his home on the 
first day of his arrival there and gone out anew into 
the world. As it was, he went to every house in the 
place seeking a lodging, and was sometimes turned 
away and refused with harsh words and abuse. Some 
of these people told him that there was only one place 
fit for him — the Dwarfs’ Nest, — the Dwarfs would 
probably allow him to rent the Dwarfs’ Nest if he 
would offer sufficiently high payment for lodgings 
there. Without heeding these insults, the weaver sud- 
denly remembered the little hut in which he had often 
played as a boy, and which, upon his entrance into the 
village, he had recognized at the foot of the dungeon- 
wall, with its green sides and roof, and he thought that 
perhaps, after all, he could not do better than follow 
the counsel that these hard-hearted people had mali- 
ciously given him. 

He hastily turned his steps towards the hovel, and, 
opening the mouldering door, which at first offered 
some resistance to his efforts, he saw, to his great joy, 
that, although the interior of the hut was somewhat 
ruinous, it could easily be repaired at the cost of some 
labour and pains. He immediately began to clear out 
of it the leaves, dust, and decayed wood, and then 
went to town and brought back some of his friends, 
who were carpenters, glaziers, and slaters by trade, 
and with their help the Dwarfs’ Nest soon presented a 
most comfortable appearance, and Conrad was de- 
lighted to set up his loom ready for work. 

The evil-minded men in the village regarded these 
proceedings and alterations with no small amazement, 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


61 


laughing in their sleeves and rejoicing at the same time 
that poor Conrad would soon have to move away again 
as soon as the Dwarfs discovered his presence. Al- 
though the weaver himself remembered the legends 
which he had often heard in his boyhood concerning 
the Dwarfs’ Nest, yet he had travelled much since that 
time, and as, in his wanderings, nothing strange or un- 
accountable had ever happened to him, he had gradually 
lost all faith in such stories, and thought of everything 
else during his first night in his little dwelling rather 
than Dwarfs, who could come and disturb him there. 
It was a very clear night, with a full moon shining, 
but his thoughts would not allow him to sleep much. 
He heard the church-clock in the village strike hour 
after hour, and at last twelve strokes announced that 
midnight had arrived. And now he seriously deter- 
mined to go to sleep, turned on his side, and was just 
shutting his eyes when he heard a faint hemming and 
coughing in the room. He opened his eyes wide, and 
who shall describe his astonishment when he saw be- 
side him a little man, scarcely a span high, dressed in 
a leather-coloured doublet, breeches, black stockings, 
and shoes fastened with silver buckles so enormous, in 
comparison with the rest of his figure, that one could 
hardly understand how the little fellow could walk with 
them ! 

At first the weaver thought he must be dreaming, and 
rubbed his eyes to awaken himself. However, upon col- 
lecting his thoughts he became convinced that he was 
thoroughly awake. In the mean time the little man 
walked up and down the room, looked at the new 
wooden furniture, and jumping with one leap upon the 
6 


62 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


window-seat, tapped the new, clear window panes with 
a little stick that he carried in his hand, and smiled in 
a satisfied manner. The cleanliness of the floor also, 
and the fresh white walls, seemed to please him, for he 
nodded his little head, and gave expression to his satis- 
faction by a kind of murmuring noise. The weaver, 
regarding all this with astonishment, sat up in bed, 
and tried to inform the little man of his presence 
by coughing and clearing his throat. But the little 
fellow at first took no notice of him, except to wave his 
hand towards him, as if to say, “In a moment, in a 
moment,” and then pursued his investigations. At 
last, however, he appeared to have finished his exam- 
ination of the room, and with one jump he sprang upon 
the table by the side of the weaver’s bed, and seated 
himself comfortably upon a big piece of bread, from 
which he now and then broke off a crumb and put 
it into his mouth. And then, after Dwarf and man 
had regarded each other curiously for a few moments, 
the former said in a shrill, squeaking voice, while he 
gave another glance around the room, “We are glad, 
my friend, to have procured a tenant who has put 
everything into such good order, and if you will only 
fulfil to our satisfaction the conditions, which we, as 
owners of this house, impose upon you, I hope we shall 
always live happily together.” The weaver, who had 
never expected to pay any rent for the ruinous old 
Dwarfs’ Nest, pricked up his ears, and taking great care 
not to offend one of these dreaded beings, askea 
modestly what the conditions were of which his new 
landlord spoke. The Dwarf in a few words told him 
the story of the shepherd, whose stupid flock had an- 


“ With one jump he sprang upon the table, and seated himself comfort- 
ably upon a big piece of bread." 



Page 62 






THE DWARFS' NEST. 


63 


noyed and worried his people beyond description, and 
added, that the little men had driven the shepherd 
from the Dwarfs’ Nest, not from any dislike to the 
numan race, but that they might have some peace in 
their place of assemblage. Conrad, encouraged by the 
friendly address and good-humoured smile of the little 
man, recovered from his first amazement, and replied 
that he was delighted indeed to make such a distin- 
guished acquaintance so entirely unexpectedly, and 
that he only hoped that the rent of his new dwelling 
would be such as he could pay, for, to tell the truth, 
silver or gold he had none. The Dwarf broke off a 
large piece of bread for himself, and replied with a 
smile, “The worthless articles that you mention can be 
of no manner of use to us. We possess jewels and gold 
in such overflowing measure that I suppose you would 
consider us a wealthy people. But we need many 
things that we can only obtain through the assistance 
of kind-hearted, industrious men. We have watched 
you from your childhood, and have seen with pleasure 
that you have preserved your heart free from guile and 
deceit, and this is an additional reason why we have 
not opposed your taking possession of the house. We 
Dwarfs know how to prize mortal excellence, and we 
seek the society of men who are pious, honest, and 
industrious, rather than of those (of whom, by the way, 
the shepherd was one) who are in every way the re- 
verse. Continue, then, to be as industrious as hereto- 
fore, labour quietly to maintain yourself, and our aid 
and counsel shall not be wanting. But now listen to the 
conditions of which I spoke, and which are, that every 
month when the moon is at the full you shall give 113 


64 


THE DWARFS' NEST 


entire possession of your house and furniture, and even 
of your loom. Do not intrude upon us at such times, 
but shut yourself up in your room, and we will take 
care that so deep a slumber shall overcome you as shall 
prevent you from hearing the noise of our work.” 

At the last words the countenance of the Dwarf grew 
very grave, and he concluded his address by saying, 
“ Remember not to be so silly as to try and observe us 
at work, and remember too, that only as long as your 
heart is free from the common vices of mortals are we 
able to send sleep to you. It is not in our power to 
banish the thoughts of evil deeds or to free you from 
the stings of a guilty conscience.” 

The weaver listened to all this quietly, and rejoiced 
to find that the rent was one he could so easily pay ; he 
cordially shook hands with the Dwarf, promising to do 
all in his power to ensure the little people from dis- 
turbance during their occupations. 

The agreement thus concluded, the little fellow 
jumped down from the bed, gave the young man a 
friendly smile, and disappeared. The weaver then laid 
down and slept until morning. The next day he took 
his first journey to town to procure work, and it seemed 
as though already the Dwarfs were assisting him, for 
the first merchant to whom he applied gave him an 
encouraging reception ; and after the foreman of the 
establishment had proved him and found that the young 
man really understood weaving, his name was written 
in a big book, and a quantity of silk and wool was 
given to him that he might weave it into a fine piece 
of cloth. Arrived at home, the weaver went diligently 
to work, and never had he been able to accomplish so 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


6 5 


much ; his progress astonished even himself. The little 
accidents which will happen, even to those most skilled 
in weaving, occurred only very seldom; his threads 
rarely broke, and never became tangled. When he sat 
down at his wheel to wind his spools, he was amazed 
to see them whirl around as swift as lightning, and yet 
the wool and silk lay as evenly upon them as though 
they were wound slowly and with the greatest care. 
When the moon appeared in the heavens like a sickle, 
and began to increase, he knew that the night was ap- 
proaching when his rent was to be paid by his leaving 
his house to the Dwarfs, and then he took good care to 
arrange matters so that his work was finished for the 
merchant in the town, and he exerted himself to put 
his loom into good order that the little men might 
nave no reason to complain of him. 

On the nights when the moon was full he would sit 
at his window in the twilight and look out upon the 
landscape where the blue mists rose slowly, listening to 
the song of the crickets in the grass, and enjoying the 
lovely view, until the heavens around the Dwarfs’ Nest 
grew brighter and the full moon appeared. Then he 
would betake himself to his bed, and, as he was troubled 
by no evil thoughts, he would soon fall asleep. Some- 
times he thought that just before sleep overcame him he 
could hear a strange noise and humming, but as he was 
not inquisitive by nature he did not trouble himself 
about it, but was soon sound asleep. When he arose 
in the morning after such a night, and went to his loom, 
he could always see that the Dwarfs had been at work 
there, for here and there between the bands and the 
6 * 

E 


66 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


wheels a little piece of silk of an odd colour would be 
found sticking, and two or three threads of gold would 
be lying about the floor ; and once on the weaver’s beam, 
upon which the completed cloth is wound, he found a 
narrow strip of stuff, which the Dwarfs had left there 
when they cut the piece out of the loom, of such a 
strange colour and design that he had never seen any- 
thing like it before. He took it off, and the next time 
he went to town he begged the merchant’s foreman to 
give him silk of the same colours, and going home, set 
himself to work to imitate the Dwarfs’ design. If he 
did not quite succeed, at all events he completed such a 
beautiful piece of stuff that the merchant had never 
seen anything like it before, and paid him a heavy 
price for it. 

After this work, every one connected with the man- 
ufactory paid some attention to the young man, and 
the master manufacturers, who had hitherto only re- 
garded him as a diligent workman, but nothing more, 
tried to discover whether the beautiful design of his 
work were really his own, — that, if so, they might profit 
by his talent. And thus the poor weaver, who had, as 
we have said, never been even appreciated, much less 
esteemed, was very much flattered by the attention of 
the foreman and young clerks of the establishment. 
They invited him to join their evening parties, and if 
at first he did not feel entirely at home in these circles 
where a great deal of beer and wine was drunk, and 
where the conversation was not always what it should 
be, and if his coarse coat contrasted rather strongly 
with the costume of these youths, who were starched 
and ironed and laced and curled, yet the fumes of the 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 67 

wine, and the well-known skill of the weaver, levelled 
all differences of rank. 

Hitherto Conrad had been able to live very well 
upon his earnings without working very hard, but, as 
his money went with incredible rapidity at these 
nightly carousals, he was forced to work several hours 
earlier and later that his earnings might be sufficiently 
increased to defray the expenses of his evening enter- 
tainments. 

Sometimes, when he was returning home late at 
night, he could not help thinking that his present 
life was not leading him in the right way, and, as he 
passed through the old ruins on his way to his dwell- 
ing, he now and then thought that he could distin- 
guish the figure of his little landlord sitting upon a 
stone and shaking his head sadly at him, but he easily 
convinced himself that he was mistaken, and refused 
to admit that the Dwarfs had any reason for being dis- 
satisfied with him, for, as often as the moon was at the 
full, he left his loom in perfect order, and had never 
dared to pass the night away from home, more espe- 
cially perhaps as he was always extremely anxious to 
cut from the beam the narrow strip of stuff that the 
Dwarfs now regularly left for him, and from which he 
copied those beautiful designs that called forth the ad- 
miration of his employers. But once it happened 
either that his almanac was wrong or that he thought 
the Dwarfs could get on very well without him, for 
he cut his piece of stuff out of the loom and carried it 
the same night to town, where it was received, and his 
companions would not allow him to depart until the 
moon wa? high in the heavens. 


48 THE DWARFS' NEST. 

As lie walked home he thought, with anxiety, that 
he had neglected his landlord’s comfort, for he had 
not left his loom in good order, and he had not re- 
mained quietly at home; but, although the idea oc- 
curred to him that he might walk on quickly and peep 
at the little people at work, he stood too much in awe 
of the little beings, and of his own promise, to do so. 
He was not yet so spoiled as to forget his honour 
entirely. As it happened to be summer-time, he 
spent the rest of the mild night under an old pine 
tree, where he stretched himself out upon the moss 
and slept soundly. 

When he arose the next morning, he walked towards 
his dwelling with hurried steps and a beating heart, for 
he feared that the Dwarfs might have revenged them- 
selves upon him in some way for his neglect. But this 
was not the case ; he opened the door of his house and 
listened for some unusual sound, but all was quiet and 
in order, — the wooden clock above his bed was ticking 
peacefully, and the thrush that hung in a cage at the 
window was singing a merry song in honour of the 
rising sun. He hurried to his loom, and here he 
found nothing unusual. As before, the little ends of 
silk and gold thread that the Dwarfs had used were 
lying around, only he found the design of the piece of 
stuff left still upon the beam very strangely altered. 
Hitherto the colours had harmonized so prettily, and 
had formed so graceful a pattern, that it suggested to 
the mind some sweet and lovely melody, but to-day 
there was something weird and strange about both 
the colours and the design of the pattern left by the 
little men. There was an odd combination of red 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


69 

and black, with here and there fine sparkling threads 
of silver that flashed zigzag, like lightning, and, as 
Conrad looked at it, he felt more keenly than ever 
that he had not treated his little landlords well ; that 
he was leading a life that was far from good for him, 
and neglecting the advice which the Dwarfs had given 
him. 

But, alas ! the evil example of the young people in 
the town had already done him so much harm that he 
did not heed the still, small voice of his conscience, and 
busied himself with copying the new piece of stuff, 
the strange design of which was more in keeping than 
the former ones with his present reckless state of mind. 
The new piece of work also pleased the foreman and 
gentlemen in town extremely well, for their minds 
were more false and frivolous than the weaver’s. The 
foreman was a sly, cunning fellow, who had long been 
much puzzled to understand how so simple-minded a 
man as the weaver could design and execute all these 
beautiful patterns. Of course he never dreamed that 
Conrad copied Dwarfs’ work, but he thought that the 
weaver had brought home from his travels a quantity 
of beautiful patterns which he thus imitated one by one 
in order that they might bring him in the largest possi- 
ble amount of money. He had already, when with 
Conrad over the wine-cup, led the conversation to the 
beautiful designs, but the weaver’s natural caution had 
stood him in good stead, and he had, as yet, betrayed 
nothing. Nevertheless the foreman did not cease to 
ply him with sly questions, and at last by his wiles in- 
duced the poor fellow to impart his whole secret to 
him, and even to bring him a sample of the Dwarfs 


7o 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


manufacture, at the sight of which every one skilled in 
such matters held up his hands in amazement. 

The only thing that Conrad did not tell was the time 
and the place where the Dwarfs pursued their labours. 
He feared that if he revealed this the little people 
might be watched and thus chased away, leaving him 
with no resources for earning a livelihood. His mode 
of life had so altered him that he no longer worked 
carefully or diligently, and it was only from the 
Dwarfs’ work that he derived any profit. Even his 
poor imitations of their wonderful designs were so much 
liked by the merchants that they were sure to bring 
a high price. The foreman told several of his friends 
of the source whence the weaver obtained his pat- 
terns, and they in their turn told others, whereupon 
Conrad’s reputation became so doubtful that his former 
friends were, or thought themselves obliged, to drop all 
association with him. But he had now grown so accus- 
tomed to jovial society that he sought out other wild 
companions, with whom he caroused through whole 
nights ; and although, at first, he had been contented 
with wine, he now hardly ever returned home without 
being intoxicated by deep draughts of brandy. 

All that the Dwarf had told him so seriously at the 
conclusion of their interview, that the little people 
would prove his friends and protectors only so long as 
his heart was free from the guile and vices that beset 
humanity, and that their labour in his house would as- 
sisthim only whilst his conscience allowed him to sleep 
peacefully, was now shown to be true. He had already 
turned and tossed upon his bed for many a night when 
the full moon shone, waking now and then to hear a 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


71 


faint murmuring in his room, — a bewildering sound 
that so confused him that he never at such times re- 
gained full possession of his faculties, but fell again into 
an uneasy sleep. As his manner of life did not im- 
prove, but became more extravagant and dissipated 
every day, these wakeful periods grew longer, until he 
sometimes tossed upon his bed for hours, while the 
Dwarfs were at work in the next room. 

Hitherto he had always respected their prohibition, 
and had never pried, either with eyes or ears, into 
their doings, but he thought less and less of their 
warnings. And although at first he resisted the temp- 
tation to watch them, at last, one night when the moon 
was full, he sat up in his bed and listened attentively. 

He distinctly heard the whirr of the loom, the shuttle 
flying with lightning rapidity, and the wheels roll- 
ing noisily, as though turned by a whirlwind. He 
arose, and his hand was upon the latch of the door 
separating his sleeping-room from his work-room, when 
better thoughts conquered ; he tore himself away from 
the spot, and threw himself once more upon his bed. 

The next morning he hurried to his loom, but the 
little piece of cloth that the Dwarfs had always left for 
him was nowhere to be seen ; and the loom, too, was 
not in the order in which it had always heretofore been 
left. The bands and wheels were in confusion, and 
the weaver saw plainly that he must resign all hope of 
the continuance of the protection that the Dwarfs had 
hitherto afforded him. And in town he was very 
coldly received when he presented himself with empty 
hands, not even bringing a new design, as had been 
his custom, and as the Dwarfs’ assistance had hitherto 


72 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


enabled him to do every month. He was even received 
with harsh reproaches, and told that his employers were 
neither satisfied with his work nor with his present 
mode of life. Still the foreman, as an especial fa- 
vour, he said, gave him once more a quantity of silk, 
and told him that if he did not this time finish a good 
and careful piece of work, he would have no more 
employment from the factory. Conrad went home 
thinking of many things and possessed by most un- 
comfortable feelings as he remembered the old times 
when he had led a life so different from his present 
one. And yet he was deterred from entering the 
tavern as usual, not by these thoughts, but by the fact 
that, after a long search, he could not find a single 
coin in his pockets, and did not dare to ask for further 
credit. So he went home and put his loom in order, 
and took pains in putting the silk into it that he might 
complete a fine piece of work. He succeeded, after 
a great deal of labour in these preparations, but he 
was not animated by an honest desire to be industrious, 
but rather by greed of gain, that he might pursue his 
ruinous courses. 

Thus the month slipped by. His work was finished 
rather late in the evening upon which the Dwarfs 
always paid their visit, and he thought it well done. 
As he was examining it and thinking of the small sum 
of money that he should receive for so much toil, 
an idea occurred to him, which at first, it is true, he 
rejected, but which soon took possession of him. He 
thought, for the first time in his life, that he might 
deceive his employer by cutting off a few yards of the 
cloth he had just woven, and selling it for his own 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


73 


profit. It would bring him in quite as much as his 
poor wages. At first his better nature refused to listen 
to such a wicked plan. But he soon found that he who 
admits an evil thought into his mind will soon be mas- 
tered by it. In short, after a struggle with himself, he 
took up his scissors and cut off a piece from his work. 

As it was too late in the day to carry the rest home, 
he rolled it up hastily and threw himself upon his bed, 
with a beating heart, and tried to sleep. But this was 
impossible, for he heard hour after hour strike without 
being able to close his eyes. And soon it grew brighter 
and brighter, and the moon arose. At the same time 
there was such a humming and buzzing in the air 
around the Dwarfs’ Nest that it seemed as though a 
swarm of bees were at work, and he heard it all much 
more clearly than ever before. The little people went 
right to work at the loom, and, as the wheels flew 
around, a strange melody resounded through the house, 
monotonous, but so sweet that it closed the listener's 
heavy eyelids. But then the theft that he had com- 
mitted came into his mind, and his heart beat so that 
it was impossible to sleep. 

Thus he lay wide awake for about an hour, tossing 
restlessly in bed. And again the desire beset him to 
disobey, to transgress the injunctions of his landlord, 
and watch the doings of the Dwarfs. He fought against 
it for a long time — now getting up and then lying down 
again — now stopping his ears that he might hear no- 
thing and then listening more attentively than ever. 
It seemed to him as though invisible powers were con- 
tending for mastery over him. At last he arose and 
stood before the door ready to open it and surprise 
7 


74 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


the Dwarfs at their work. Even now he attempted to 
resist the temptation, but it was too strong for him. 
He gave a slight push to the door and it flew open ; but, 
instead of seeing anything, the weaver suddenly received 
a tremendous blow and fell senseless upon the floor. 

When he came to himself he rubbed his eyes, and 
at first could not remember what had happened to him. 
He stared about and found that he was indeed in 
his hut, but its walls were no longer whole and clean 
as before. Here and there were great cracks through 
which the morning wind was blowing and playing with 
the nettles and dry leaves that were heaped upon the 
dust-covered floor. Conrad, whose head was still con- 
fused, arose slowly, and could hardly remember what 
he had been doing or thinking the evening before. 
Beside him lay the pieces of the shattered loom, and 
before him his folded work. Only when he saw the 
piece that he had cut off from it did he clearly re- 
member all that had occurred, and thought with hor- 
ror of what he had done. For the first time he felt 
remorse for his evil ways. He determined to begin a 
different life, and took the piece of stuff and the piece 
which he had cut off, resolved to carry both to his 
employer and confess his fault and promise to begin 
anew. Refreshed by these good intentions, he left 
the Dwarfs’ Nest, now in ruins, determined not to 
return thither, for he unjustly ascribed his present 
trials to the agency of the little men. As he stepped 
out into the clear morning air, a dark spell seemed to 
be removed from him, and he was truly ashamed of 
the life he had been leading. He turned his steps to 
the long unvisited grave of his parents, and, after re- 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


75 

newing there his vows of amendment, he went on 
towards town with fresh courage. 

He had almost reached it when he sat down by the 
roadside and opened his parcel that he might fold the 
piece of silk afresh. But who can describe his terror 
when, upon opening the paper, he found the silk gone 
and its place filled with dirt and dust ? In despair he 
struck his forehead with his clenched fist and rolled 
over and over on the grass. He heaped the Dwarfs 
with reproaches^ for he considered them the sole cause 
of his misfortunes. He started up, then flung him- 
self upon the ground again, and then rushed about 
for hours among the rocks and forests, repeatedly 
examining the parcel in his hand, but in vain, the 
dust did not turn to silk. And then he proclaimed 
aloud his misery and ruin. Sometimes he thought 
he heard around him hoarse laughter, which increased 
his rage, for, however swiftly he might dart to the 
spot whence the noise proceeded, he found nothing. 
While he was in this state of despair, evening came 
on, and he flung himself exhausted at the foot of 
some jagged rocks. Here he wept aloud and be- 
moaned his fate as the unhappiest of men, from whom 
all means of improvement had been snatched at the 
very moment when he meant to begin a new life. But 
he soon gathered a sort of comfort from despair and 
cried out : “ Well, then, God knows that I wished to 
improve and change my manner of life, but He has 
rejected the repentant sinner and deprived him of 
everything that could help him in the way of improve- 
ment. Now I don’t care what happens to me, and 
any one who wants me may have me.” 


76 


THE DWARFS' NEST 


Scarcely had he spoken these words when he heard 
a noise above his head, and looking up he saw a 
strange little figure sitting upon a ledge of rocks. At 
first he thought it was his landlord, and was about to 
start up and run away. But closer inspection told 
him that the little creature before him was very dif- 
ferent from his former friend. He was two feet high, 
and had a big, misshapen head, and a sly, malicious 
face, from which small, red eyes looked out wick- 
edly. His dress consisted of a black leather coat and 
breeches of the same. Large riding-boots covered his 
feet and legs, but he had taken off one of these boots 
and held it on his lap stroking and rubbing it. The 
little man cleared his throat, and said to the weaver, 
who was anxiously listening, “Yes, yes, my dear 
fellow, if you really mean what you have just said, that 
any one may have you who wants you, I assure you 
that you can find no better master than myself. Will 
you enter my service ?’ * 

The weaver, who was really shocked to find how 
wicked his words had been, was about to run off, 
but at the first step his whole helpless condition and 
weight of misfortunes came into his mind, and he 
thought within himself, “ I may, at least, hear what the 
little fellow has to say,” and so he turned round again 
and asked, “What do you want with me?” 

The little man turned and twisted the boot in his lap, 
and then replied, grinning, “My dear friend, I read 
in your thoughts that you think me, in fact, the Evil 
One himself, but really you do me too much honour. 
I am a much more insignificant personage, and belong 
to that race to which you mortals give tne name of 


THE DWARFS* NEST. 


77 


Kobolds. I have not the slightest desire for your soul, 
for I should not know what in the world to do with 
such a thing ; but you can do me a great service this 
very night if you will, and besides the gold which you 
will thus gain, you may revenge yourself upon your 
enemies who are mine also, — upon those miserable 
little wretches, I mean, who have ruined you entirely 
with their nonsensical conditions.” 

When the weaver found that nothing threatened the 
welfare of his soul, the prospect of working some harm 
to the Dwarfs, whom he persisted in thinking had 
treated him unkindly, was very attractive, and he 
declared himself ready to serve the Kobold. The 
creature, with a grin, drew on his boot, then took out 
of his pocket a little flask, from which the weaver took 
a hearty draught, and then the Kobold commanded 
Conrad to go to a neighbouring pond and bring thence 
two long reeds. The weaver obeyed, while the Kobold 
took off his other boot and began to rub and stroke it 
as he had done to its fellow. Down by the pond Con- 
rad cut two huge reeds, with flowering tops, and carried 
them to the Kobold, who seemed well satisfied with 
them, and immediately drew on his boot again. 

“Hearken,” said he, “although you are only my 
servant, and there is no need that I should tell you why 
I do this or that, yet I will tell you in a few words 
what I intend to do for you. ’ ’ Here the Kobold rubbed 
his hands, and grinned significantly, as he continued : 
“The Dwarfs, to whom you gave up your dwelling 
every night of the full moon, have always been at war 
with the ancient and honourable race of Kobolds. The 
garments and stuffs that they wove in your loom were 


THE DWARFS NEST 


7 8 

destined for wedding-clothes for a pair who are to be 
married to-night, and whose festivities I propose to in- 
terrupt. If you had not disturbed the little men at their 
weaving yesterday evening they would have completed 
their work, and I should have had no power over them. 
But now I can go to them and steal away the fair bride 
whom I have long loved.” 

If, upon hearing this, the weaver at first thought that 
he had treated his old landlord verynnkindly, his mind 
instantly recurred to his own misfortunes, and he felt 
glad that revenge was within his reach. The Kobold 
got up, and commanded the weaver to pick up the two 
reeds from the ground. Then he put one between his 
legs, and told his servant to do the same, after which 
he chirruped and moved his legs like a horseman who 
wishes to urge on a lazy steed. Who can describe 
Conrad’s astonishment when he found that the reed 
between his legs increased in length and breadth until 
it became a full-grown horse, which, with the Kobold’s, 
rushed away over field and hedge. But, alas ! he had 
not taken sufficient care in mounting, and held the 
flowering top in his hand, so that, consequently, he now 
found himself sitting backwards on his steed, holding, 
instead of the bridle, the tail, to which he clung tightly, 
to the Kobold’s infinite amusement. 

Thus they rode on in the night through thick for- 
ests, over desert heaths, down steep abysses, and 
through foaming torrents, and nothing surprised the 
weaver more than that he did not fall off his horse. 
Indeed, he felt no jolting as with an ordinary horse, 
for the magic steed that he bestrode seemed to glide 
over the ground without moving his feet. At last 


THE DWARFS' NEST 


79 


they appeared to have reached the place of their 
destination. They arrived in a valley full of strangely- 
shaped rocks, where the Kobold suddenly stopped his 
horse and scrambled down to the ground. The animal 
instantly shrunk all up and became a reed as before. 

The weaver, who was a little giddy with all the won- 
ders that he had seen, felt himself suddenly bumped 
down upon the ground, and when he looked round 
after his horse it had vanished, and he saw only a bent 
reed lying at his feet. “We are on the spot,” said 
the Kobold, “and, if you conduct yourself well, in 
a short time the charming little bride will be mine, 
and your reward shall be great, only follow my di- 
rections exactly. Take hold of my belt and do not 
let go until we are again in the open air with the 
pretty sprite. But, above all, remember not to speak 
a single word, whatever may happen.” The weaver 
promised to fulfil these easy directions, and seized the 
girdle of the Kobold, who immediately went to one 
of the huge masses of rock and slipped easily through 
a crack in it. Conrad hesitated a little here, for it 
seemed impossible to him that he, with his great body, 
could get through such a narrow crack. But he was 
ashamed to linger behind, and so gave a little push 
and instantly he was with his master within the rock. 
He could not help feeling his body carefully, for he was 
convinced that the slipping through must have made 
him as thin as cardboard. But this was not so. He 
found himself with his master in a large marble hall, 
magnificently hung with thousands of lights. A crowd 
of Dwarfs, about the size of his landlord and very 
much like him, were busily running hither and thither, 


8o 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


carrying in their hands gold and silver dishes, whence 
streamed an odour so savoury that the poor weaver, 
who had not tasted a morsel since morning, was de- 
voured by hunger. Dread overcame him at first, for, 
although he knew that both his master and himself 
were invisible to these little beings, he could not help 
thinking that they must notice him when his master 
led him directly through their midst, and so he shut 
his eyes as the ostrich does when it hopes to escape 
the observation of its enemies. Suddenly lovely music 
greeted his ears, and such brilliant rays of light pierced 
his shut eyelids that he could not help opening his 
eyes wide to look around him. Then he saw that 
he was in the midst of the wedding assemblage of the 
Dwarfs, who were seated in long rows at a table, 
feasting and merry-making. On a raised platform at 
the end of the hall sat the musicians, making such 
delicious and heart-touching music that the weaver 
thought he had never heard anything half so fine. 
Although the hall was very lofty for the Dwarfs, he had 
to stoop in it, and when he crouched in a corner, his 
head reached far over the little people’s table, at the 
upper end of which sat the bride and bridegroom. 
But what were Conrad’s sensations when, in the bride- 
groom, he recognized his landlord, and saw that he, as 
well as the other Dwarfs, was dressed in cloth spun 
upon his loom ! 

The bridegroom looked extremely happy, and paid 
every attention to his bride, who was such a lovely, 
charming little creature that the weaver repented from 
his heart his promise to steal her away for his new 
master. The Kobold had clambered up to the ceiling 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


8l 


and clung there to the weaver’s head just over a chan- 
delier. He put his lips to the weaver’s ear and said, 
with a grin, “You see that the moment is favour- 
able. Stretch out your hand slowly, seize the little 
bride in a firm grasp, and place her here beside me, 
that she may be invisible to the rest, and in the bustle 
that ensues we will slip away unobserved. Do you 
hear? Stretch out your hand instantly.” But Conrad 
was suddenly overcome with remorse, and thought 
how wrong it was to revenge himself thus upon his 
landlord, who had never done him any injury until he, 
by his neglect and dissipation, had deeply offended 
him. He tried to state the case respectfully to the 
Kobold, but the little creature, clinging fast to his ear, 
buzzed like a wasp, and would not let him speak a 
word, saying, “ Hush ! you must not flinch — you are 
my servant. Stretch out your hand, I say, and seize 
the little thing, or I will leave you, and woe betide 
you if the Dwarfs see you.” 

Terrified at this threat, Conrad stretched out his 
hand, but his better feeling conquered, and he drew it 
back again empty. “What are you doing ?” ^buzzed 
the Kobold in his ear. “Oh, sir,” replied the weaver, 
“ something tickled my nose, and I was afraid I should 
sneeze.” “Hm — hm — attend!” said the little fel- 
low; “don’t speak, but attend to your business.” 
Again the weaver stretched out his hand, and was just 
about to seize the poor little bride, when his arm 
twitched so that he once more drew back his hand 
empty. Then the Kobold gave his ear a little bite, and 
grumbled so angrily that it seemed to the weaver as if a 
swarm of hornets were flying about his head. “ You 

F 


82 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


fool ! what do you mean ? Why don’t you pick up the 
bride?” “Forgive me, sir,” replied Conrad, “the 
steam from the meats is so hot, that the perspiration is 
rolling in drops down my face, and if I had not wiped 
it away it would have fallen upon the table and be- 
trayed us.” This, at least, was no falsehood, only it 
was his struggle with himself, and not the steam from 
the meats that made the drops stand upon his brow. 

The weaver now put out his hand for the third 
time, and the struggle within him between good and 
evil was so great that his fingers closed and unclosed 
convulsively. He would have had the bride in his 
hand in one moment more if, just at this instant, the 
bridegroom had not handed her a nosegay, which she 
took with a smile, and pressed to her breast and lips. 
In Conrad’s anguish he tried to find a means to delay 
the fatal grasp, but in vain ; the little creature was all 
but in his hand, when affected by the strong perfume 
of the flowers, she sneezed violently, and the weaver, 
forgetting, in his confusion, the Kobold’s injunctions, 
cried out aloud, “ God bless you!” 

Instantly the rocks resounded with a crash like thun- 
der, — it lightened, and the Dwarfs and the table grew 
indistinct and vanished, while the Kobold growled, 
angrily, “Is this the way you keep your promise, 
you vile, mortal vagabond?” And then he trod with 
his clumsy boot so heavily upon the weaver’s neck 
that the poor fellow fell senseless on the ground, and 
lay there for some time. When he came to himself 
his limbs felt as though they had been beaten, and 
it was long before he could remember what had hap- 
pened. He rubbed his eyes, and was just rising, that 


THE DWARFS' NEST. 


83 

he might creep slowly away, when, to his astonishment 
and terror, he saw standing beside him his landlord, 
who thus addressed him: “Do not be afraid, — lam 
not going to do you any further injury. The punishment 
that we inflicted upon you was perfectly just, for you 
remember how you violated the conditions of our agree- 
ment, and what a wicked, dissipated fellow you have 
been for some time past. But let all be forgiven and 
forgotten. As you, last night, did me and my dear 
wife a great service, I will help you to become once 
more a happy, honest man. To give you gold and 
silver would do you no good, for I know well that 
money seldom brings content to human beings, but is, 
on the contrary, often the cause of manifold ills and 
trials to them. But go home to your hut and begin to 
work as before. We do not need your aid any longer, 
and therefore shall not again test your curiosity. I 
hope you will prove honest and true, and not fall into 
your late miserable ways again. If I give you no visible 
proof of my gratitude, you will soon be convinced that 
we mean to assist you with invisible advice and aid.” 

The Dwarf then vanished, and as the weaver looked 
around him he saw by the light of the first rays of the 
sun, which shone over the mountains, that he was just 
in the vicinity of the Dwarfs’ Nest. He hastened to 
his dwelling, and, remembering the desolation and con- 
fusion that he had left there the day before, he was 
greatly surprised to see nothing of it to-day. The door 
was closed, but he heard the clock ticking, and the thrush 
singing within. And everything was in the most beau- 
ful order, his loom thoroughly repaired, and the stuff 
from which he had cut the piece lying by it wrapped up 


84 


THE DWARFS' NEST 


entire. And he also observed, to his delight, that it was 
the most beautiful piece of work that he had ever seen. 
He carried it to the town, but the scene of his former 
dissipation was so hateful to him that he left it in a 
great hurry, as soon as his business there was concluded ; 
and although he soon won for himself, by his beautiful 
work, the confidence and esteem of his employers, he 
took good care not to frequent bad society, but con- 
tinued to labour diligently and unweariedly, soon per- 
ceiving plainly that the Dwarfs gave him much invisible 
aid, so that he grew to be a wealthy man. After 
awhile he built for himself a fine, large house, but 
never tore down the Dwarfs’ Nest, which remained 
standing for many years, until, with the faith in Dwarfs 
and Fairies, it also crumbled and sank into decay. 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


Many, many years ago there reigned over Bagdad 
the Caliph Haroun al Raschid, one of the wealthiest, 
wisest, and most powerful princes that ever sat upon 
the throne. He was honoured and loved indeed, not 
only by those of his subjects who were rich and great, 
but also by the meanest among them. And, besides, 
the Prophet had deigned to grant him wise and just 
men for his servants. His Grand Vizier, Abdallah, 
to whose hands the whole administration of affairs 
throughout the realm might have been safely entrusted, 
was such a man as is rarely to be found, just, true, and 
economical, who knew well how to increase his master’s 
wealth, steadily but always honestly. Therefore the 
Caliph loved him like a brother, and could not pass 
an hour without his faithful Abdallah. They always 
worked together, — together they played chess, of which 
game they were both masters, and whenever the Ca- 
liph went out hunting, the Vizier was obliged to ac- 
company him. 

Now it was the wise custom of the Caliph to wander 
in disguise through the streets and bazaars of Bagdad, 
that he might thus inform himself concerning much 
which would else have been concealed from him. In 
these walks he often heard complaints made by his 
8 ( 8 S ) 


86 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


subjects, and he investigated them closely, — always, if 
they were well founded, removing their cause. He 
often attended the sessions of the courts, to see 
whether the judges administered justice faithfully, 
without respect of persons. But it was chiefly in the 
silence of night that he wandered through the streets, 
accompanied by his Vizier, Abdallah ; and not unfre- 
quently, at these times, he prevented thefts and mis- 
chief of various kinds, for he visited the most distant 
and impoverished quarters of the town, partly to pre- 
vent all such mischief, and partly to seek out the 
poorest of his people in their miserable hovels, and 
assist them with money or good advice. 

Thus, one evening he, with his Grand Vizier, left his 
palace and wandered along the banks of the Tigris, en- 
joying the beauty of the starlit night. The Caliph was 
in good spirits, and very merry, and was talking with 
his companion of the various destinies of mankind, — 
how some were fortunate and others the reverse, and 
how every heart was daily filled with new hopes and 
aspirations of which so many were never to be realized. 

“ Yes,” replied Abdallah, the Vizier, “ if one could 
only read in some great mirror the various wishes and 
thoughts of the thousands of men who toss restlessly 
upon their couches around us, conscious that their 
hopes can never be fulfilled, what a subject for contem- 
plation we should have !” 

Conversing thus the two men came to one of the 
poorest quarters of the city, and entered a little, 
crooked street, which twisted and turned here and 
there, and whose course the Caliph and the Vizier fol- 
lowed until they found themselves in a part of the city 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


87 


which was entirely unknown to them. Suddenly the 
Caliph stood still, for he heard issuing from a little side 
court the lamentable shrieks of a man who was appar- 
ently undergoing a beating, or some kind of ill treat- 
ment. The Vizier, too, heard the cries, and although 
such a circumstance was not very unusual, there was 
something so strange in the steady continuance of the 
screams, that the two listeners with one accord walked 
towards the spot whence the noise proceeded. Passing 
through a very narrow and dirty little street, that led 
through a half-ruined arched gateway, they came to a 
little square that looked very gloomy and deserted. 
The houses which surrounded it were, for the most 
part, ruinous, and had neither doors nor windows. 
You could look; directly into the interior of most of 
them, and see the grass growing a foot high in the 
halls and apartments which had once been the homes 
of human beings. The roofs, too, of most of these 
tenements had fallen in, and large trees, sycamores, 
plantains, or palms looked out over the bare walls, 
giving sorrowful token that these houses had been 
empty for two or three generations. 

Only from one single house in the whole square did 
a feeble ray of light, penetrating through a broken 
window-shutter, show that some one was within. But 
with the friendly beam of light there also issued those 
cries of pain which had drawn hither the Caliph and 
his attendant. Although this building was also ruin- 
ous, like all the rest in the square, it must once have 
presented a much finer appearance than its neighbours, 
for it was built of stone, and over the doorway was in- 
scribed a sentence of the Koran, a decoration only 


88 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA . 


used by people of means and rank. But even here the 
tooth of time had attacked and partly destroyed the 
walls. The stone upon which the sentence was in- 
scribed was so defaced that the words were illegible, 
and the doors and shutters scarcely hung upon their 
hinges. 

From time to time shrieks of agony were heard from 
within, and the two men now approached to listen to 
the words that accompanied them. 

“Ah!” cried a voice, “give me something to eat 
and drink. I am dying of hunger and thirst. Am I 
not already worn to a skeleton ? How can I pass four 
days and four nights without food or drink? I shall 
die. Oh ! oh ! and have I not learned to endure my 
hundred blows daily? So do give me something to 
drink, at least.” 

The voice which uttered these strange words seemed 
to be that of a young man, but it sounded so weary and 
weak that it was easy to believe that he had really 
suffered the ill treatment of which he spoke and which 
had so reduced him. Then was heard another voice, 
that seemed to come from the lips of an older man, 
but it was not faint nor weary, as was the first. “Ah, 
sir, if you would only listen to reason, and consent to 
live like other mortals. Of what use are the tortures 
to which you subject yourself? By the beard of the 
Prophet, I am sorry enough to say so, but it is the duty 
of an old servant, like myself, and I repeat, therefore, 
for the thousandth time, that your actions are those of 
a crazy man, and that if you do not cease tormenting 
yourself thus, you will end your days in the mad- 
house. Eat and drink, and mingle again with your 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 89 

fellow-men. Of what use are these dreams of yours 
to you?” 

“ Ha ! ha !” laughed the first in his hoarsest, weakest 
voice, gnashing his teeth so that the listeners outside 
heard it, “ this is the way you serve me, you faithful 
servant! May Eblis fly away with your food and 
drink ! I will starve ! yes, and I will be beaten as much 
as I choose!” 

“Just as you please,” replied the other; “if you 
will starve to death, then, refuse all meat and drink. 
The Prophet knows that it is not my fault. But this I 
tell you, say what you will, I will not again lift a stick 
to beat you.” 

“Oh! oh!” whined the first, “faithless, dishonest 
knave ! Did you not promise my father, on his death- 
bed, with his hands in yours, to cling to me and never 
to forsake me ? and do you not know for whom I suffer 
all these woes ? Now you would have me endure them 
all in vain. Is your promise forgotten? I will be 
beaten, and I will starve! There, take the stick, I 
will bear the blows patiently.” 

The Caliph and his Vizier, standing before the door, 
did not know what to make of this strange conversa- 
tion, — each looked at the other with amazement, and 
Abdallah pushed up his turban and tweaked his nose, 
to convince himself that he was not dreaming this 
strange story. The Caliph took his companion’s hand 
and motioned him to be silent, for the old man’s 
voice was heard again, within, saying in piteous tones, 
“ O Allah ! Allah ! would that I had died with your 
father ! But the Prophet knows my heart. He knows 
that I am not to blame for this madness.” 

8 * 


9 o 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


All was then quiet for awhile, until shrieks were 
once more heard, and a sound as though some one were 
being beaten with a stick, — and between the blows 
could sometimes be heard the words, “O love! O 
love ! The fair image ! the beautiful picture ! Oh, 
those brilliant eyes ! That raven hair ! The Prophet 
help me!” 

The Caliph could listen no longer to these strange 
cries. He softly requested his Vizier to observe closely 
the situation of the house, and together they left the 
dreary square, still hearing for some distance the cries 
of the unhappy sufferer. 

The next morning the Grand Vizier took a couple 
of confidential servants with him, and set out to find 
the house in the lonely quarter of the city which the 
Caliph and he had seen the night before. They soon 
found it, and waited before it for some time, expecting 
to hear the same lament as before. But all was quiet and 
still. They knocked once, twice, at the door without 
hearing the slightest sound in return. Then they 
knocked at the closed window-shutters, and repeated 
this several times, until they heard a movement within. 
A door was opened, footsteps were heard approaching 
the front door, and the voice of an old man asked 
through a crack in the wall, who was there and what 
was wanted. 

“Open, in the name of the Caliph!” cried Abdal- 
lah, adding, as the old man within seemed to hesitate, 
“ Open quickly, or I shall obey my master the Caliph 
Haroun al Raschid’s commands, and break down the 
door, and you shall suffer severely for your disobe- 
dience.” 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA . 


91 


The door was slowly opened, and there appeared on 
the threshold the figure of an old man, very meanly 
clad, who, laying his hand on his breast and forehead, 
asked, “What are the commands of my lord the 
Caliph ?” 

Abdallah, with his two companions, entered the 
house, and proceeded to the room whence had issued 
the strange conversation on the previous evening. The 
old man at first attempted to bar their progress, but 
when he saw the armed attendants, he heaved a deep 
sigh and opened the door of the apartment. 

Although this room was in a very poor condition, 
yet what remains of furniture there were showed that 
some man of wealth had once resided there. Broken 
cabinets of gilded wood stood against the walls, and 
from the ceiling hung an old Persian shawl, as in many 
of the Oriental houses. The shutters of the windows 
were closed, so that one could only dimly descry a di- 
van in the corner of the room, upon which lay extended 
the figure of a young man. By chance a single ray of 
sunlight now streamed in, and enabled the Vizier to 
see the countenance of the youth distinctly. No one 
who looked upon his pale, sunken features could 
doubt that it was he whose shrieks had been heard 
on the preceding evening. He was about twenty 
years old, and apparently took no notice of the new- 
comers. His eyes were shut, his lips, shaded by a 
delicate black moustache, were tightly closed, and, in 
spite of his emaciation and pallor, his head, covered 
with thick, dark curls, was eminently handsome. His 
dress, although ragged, showed traces of better days, 
~-and in one corner of the room, beside a pile of 


92 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


immense books, lay a number of broken flasks and 
strange instruments, such as are used for necromancy 
or magic. 

After the Grand Vizier had glanced hastily over the 
interior of the apartment, he asked the old man, who 
stood submissively at the door, who this youth was; 
whereupon the other made a sign entreating silence, 
and beckoned the Grand Vizier to leave the room with 
him. 

Outside, he begged him most earnestly not to pry 
into his secrets. But Abdallah announced to him that 
the Caliph, his master, had commanded that he should 
be brought before him, that he might learn the mean- 
ing of the cries and conversation that he had over- 
heard the night before. 

When the old man heard that the Caliph had com- 
manded that he should be brought before him, he fell 
upon his knees and swore by Allah and the Prophet 
that he was guiltless of any crime, and that he would, 
in fact, rather undergo severe punishment than live 
any longer in this house. “ Yet,” he added, “I dare 
not leave my young master ; but if, O my lord, you 
compel me, innocent as I am, to go to prison, you 
must take care of him.” 

The Grand Vizier assured him that no one dreamed 
of punishing him, and that, if he would only tell the 
truth, the Caliph would order all things for the best 
for himself and his master. So the old man returned 
to the apartment where his master lay, and after ex- 
changing a few words with him, left him, and fol- 
lowed the Grand Vizier, who placed a guard before 
the house. 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA . 


93 


When they arrived at the palace they were summoned 
before the Caliph instantly, for Haroun al Raschid 
was most anxious to learn from the lips of the ser- 
vant what was the meaning of the conversation he had 
overheard. The old man prostrated himself before the 
Caliph, and said : “ Commander of the Faithful, as I 
know well that truth alone finds favour in your sight, 
I will tell, without equivocation and just as it is, 
my young master’s story, and certainly none of 
the Faithful have ever before had so strange a one. 
Know, then, O my lord, that in that house, whither 
Allah conducted you for our advantage yesterday 
evening, there lived, two years ago, Abou el Deri, a 
wise and learned man, of whom your Highness must 
certainly have heard. He could read all the myste- 
rious books of magicians and sorcerers, and dis- 
cover from the stars much concerning the past and 
future. I was his servant, O my lord, and in former 
years accompanied him upon the journeys which he 
made to all parts of the known world. Often have we 
traversed the Great Desert, and there cannot be one 
of the large Oases which we have not visited. The 
ocean, too, has borne us upon its bosom, and my mas- 
ter made all these journeys, not to accumulate wealth 
by the purchase and sale of costly merchandise, but ip 
all the countries and cities which we visited he sought 
out wise and learned men, with whom he conversed 
concerning the knowledge of the stars, and who either 
gave him or received from him various kinds of infor- 
mation. Ah, sir, it was a pleasure indeed, to travel 
for days and weeks through the lonely desert with 
Abou el Deri. Never in my life have I known any 


94 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


one who could relate such charming and entertaining 
stories ; he would continue his relations for days, and 
every one listened to him with delight. But although 
he was often eloquent and amusing upon these journeys, 
there were moments when he became quiet and re- 
served, and these were the times when the Fata Mor- 
gana appeared on the horizon of the desert. Then he 
grew thoughtful and serious, and would gaze for hours 
upon the wondrous trees, the splendid palaces, and the 
sparkling waters which adorn this phantom-spectacle 
of the desert. I have often attempted to speak to him 
at such times, but he would sign to me with his hand to 
be silent, and then he would usually open before him 
on his camel and study diligently one of his mysterious 
books, full of strange drawings, which he seemed to 
compare with the figures of the Fata Morgana. 

“Once, after a day spent in this manner, we were 
lying at evening under our tent, and Abou el Deri 
was more friendly than ever, wherefore, impelled by 
curiosity, I took heart and asked him why he gazed 
so fixedly and earnestly at the desert-phantom, and 
seemed rather to enjoy a sight which every true Mussul- 
man regards with secret dread. Then my master laughed 
and said to me, ‘Listen, O Ismael,’ for so am I 
called, ‘ thou hast long been a faithful servant to me, 
I will forgive, therefore, thy curiosity, nay, I will even 
communicate to thee — for thy understanding is good 
— what many wise and learned men before me have 
already thought of the desert-phantom, and what 1 
myself believe it to be. Thou thyself hast often seen, 
especially on very hot days, when the desert lies around 
and far, far before us, that suddenly it is as if the sand 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


95 


on the distant horizon slowly arose, and mountains ap- 
pear to rise up, above whose summits the heavy, yellow 
clouds sail slowly hither and thither. It rolls and tosses 
like a distant sea, and sometimes a ray of light shines 
out as though the sun were throwing a single beam upon 
the waters through thick, black clouds. The motion of 
the hills increases, and the yellow clouds, which are at 
first massed together, roll off like a long, thin veil and 
slowly ascend to the skies, as though a curtain were 
lifted from the earth and revealed to thy dazzled and 
enraptured gaze a rich and lovely landscape where but 
a moment before there was nothing but dreary hills of 
sand. Around thee the sun still shines hot and glowing 
upon the burning sand. Silently both men and horses 
travel on through the heat, and entrancing indeed is 
the spectacle presented by the Fata Morgana, of shady 
groves of palm, cool, bubbling brooks, and gorgeous 
palaces. At sight of them the traveller draws his bur- 
nous over his head and invokes the aid of the Prophet, 
while he turns away his eyes from the distant vision, 
for not where those palm trees wave does his path lie ; 
no, there is nothing for him there but sand and certain 
death. 

“‘But for all this there is no evil in the Fata Mor- 
gana. It does not seek to lure men to destruction, 
but is as innocent as a lovely island in the ocean which 
the mariner cannot reach because his guiding compass 
is wanting. This fair island in the sand may yet be 
one day reached by some man of true courage, and 
rich will be the reward that this spot, blooming and 
lovely as Paradise itself, contains for him who seeks it 
there. Yes, Ismael,’ continued my master, ‘I know 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


96 

thee to be good and wise; it will not bewilder thy 
senses to learn that the Fata Morgana is more than a 
mere phantom, and to be told that the Princess Morgana 
reigns there, a woman more gloriously beautiful than 
any other upon earth or in heaven. It is true, no 
mortal man has ever beheld her countenance, although 
my books, as well as wise and learned men, maintain 
that a powerful magician once succeeded in painting a 
portrait of her, which has been lost now for many 
years, and in truth the aim of all my study and travel 
is to find this dangerous picture, — dangerous, because 
the mortal who looks upon it sickens with rapture and 
love.’ 

“Thus spoke my master, and you may imagine my 
amazement at what he had related, and how I shook my 
head to find that he was wasting so much time and money 
in search of a fabulous picture. Some time after this 
narrative we were journeying with a caravan to Da- 
mascus and Palmyra, and suffered greatly by the way. 
The Simoom overtook us and destroyed a large part of 
our caravan, and only the speed of our horses enabled 
us to escape the wide-spread destruction. Ah, sir, it is 
a fearful thing to see a caravan, men and beasts, flying 
in deadly terror from the terrible death that pursues 
them. Camels and horses seem endowed with miracu- 
lous speed, and, covered with foam, fly over the sand 
until they drop dead in the midst of their course. 
Near us in this wild flight we noticed a beautiful woman 
upon a noble Arabian courser ; she held her little child, 
born only a short time before, wrapt in her veil, and, 
in the universal confusion and noise that prevailed, she 
had eyes only for the little creature, which she covered 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


97 


with her body from the rushing storm of sand. My 
master’s heart was touched at sight of this woman, and 
we kept as near to her as we could, that we might assist 
her in case of need. But the Prophet had decreed 
her death. Her horse suddenly fell dead, unluckily at 
a moment when the storm was close behind us. Then 
she held her child imploringly towards us, and could 
only cry out to my master, ‘Save, oh, save it !’ 

“You may imagine that in spite of the danger which 
threatened us we reined in our horses, while I seized the 
child and Abou el Deri attempted to rescue the woman. 
But she drew her veil over her head, and, pointing de- 
spairingly to the approaching cloud of sand, adjured 
us, by Allah and the Prophet, to fly and save the child. 
Close behind us came the sand-pillar, like a gigantic 
wall of fire, and curled above our heads like the lofty 
waves of a stormy sea when they hurry on to dash 
themselves upon the shore. ‘Fly! fly!’ screamed the 
woman, ‘and save my child!’ Whereupon our horses, 
who well knew the danger which threatened us, put 
forth anew their failing strength, and rushed wildly 
onwards. The cloud of sand broke and covered with 
a gigantic mound the body of the wretched woman. 

“Through the grace of the Prophet, we escaped, and 
Abou el Deri considered the boy that Allah had so 
unexpectedly sent, as his own, and had him educated 
in the most careful manner. Notwithstanding this new 
care, he continued his travels most diligently, and the 
older he grew, the more determined he was to find the 
picture of which he had told me. Thus we both grew 
old, and the last journey which we made together was 
to an oasis far beyond Palmyra, where dwelt a most 


9 8 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


wise and learned man. This journey was indeed our 
last, for here, after all his searching, my master found 
what he had so long desired, — the picture of the Prin- 
cess Morgana. But of what use was it to him then ? 
He stood on the brink of the grave, and no power, no 
time was left him to spend in an attempt at least to 
find that blissful island about which he had dreamed 
all his life long, and which had been the goal of all 
his hopes. We came back here to Bagdad and lived 
poorly and quietly, for my master’s property was ex- 
hausted by his travels, and the little that he had hardly 
sufficed to support him until his death. At last he 
died, and in his dying moments I and his adopted 
son, a well-grown youth, stood by his bedside. For 
the last time he gave the young man good advice, 
exhorting him to fear Allah and the Prophet, and pre- 
sented to him an amulet which his unfortunate mother 
had hung around his neck just before she perished in 
the desert. He then begged the young man to leave 
him, while he delivered to me his last directions. 

“ ‘ Ismael,’ he said, when we were alone, ‘in a few 
moments I shall be no more, and thou wilt have lost a 
master and my son a father. Promise me to use thy 
life-long experience for his good, and to give him all 
the assistance in thy power.’ I took his hand, and 
promised solemnly to do all that he asked of me, 
whereupon he adjured me never to look upon the pic- 
ture which he handed to me, or to show it to his son ; 
‘for,’ he added, ‘at sight of this picture every man 
will gradually sicken and die of love and rapture.’ 
In a few minutes after he died. 

“I was now alone with the young man, and Abou el 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA . 


99 


Deri had left but little behind him. Caskets and chests 
were empty, and the only things which we could turn 
into money were some old weapons adorned with gold 
and jewels, which I sold in the bazaars. Our young 
foster-son, who had received the name of Saladin, was 
impetuous, brave, and fiery. Abou el Deri had had 
him instructed by the wisest men of the age, and be- 
sides that he was learned in all book-wisdom, he could 
bear a lance, and manage most skilfully the wildest 
steed. But oh, sir, you can easily believe that all such 
amusements had to be resigned after my master’s death. 
What could we do ? The fiery courser that the young 
Saladin rode we were obliged to sell, as well as the 
costly apparel in which he had shone so brilliantly. 
Often did I attempt to procure some employment for 
my young master, whereby he might worthily earn his 
bread. I recommended him to the captain of the 
body-guard, entreating him to give the young man a 
place among his horsemen ; but, as I had no powerful 
protector, and could not even procure a horse and the 
necessary outfit, I was everywhere refused. Ah, sir, 
that was a sad time. I tried to persuade the youthful 
Saladin to undertake some employment, and at last 
induced him to promise to accept a place as servant in 
some shop. But I had thus bowed his proud spirit in 
vain ; for although every one was prepossessed by his 
appearance in his favour, the merchants no sooner 
heard that he was the son of Abou el Deri, the magician 
and conjurer, as they called him, than they turned from 
us and closed their doors against us. The money 
from the sale of the weapons was now exhausted, 
and I searched every chest and corner of the house 


IOO 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


in vain to find some concealed treasure. I even 
examined the iron casket which contained the won- 
derful picture, in hopes of finding something else in 
it, but there was nothing there except the picture, 
enclosed in a case. I must confess that while search- 
ing here I was tortured with curiosity, and longed 
to press the steel button of the case that enclosed the 
wonderful thing. But by good luck I seemed to hear 
at this moment the voice of my old master calling me, 
and I resisted the temptation. Unfortunately, I forgot 
to lock the casket again, and left the house to beg a 
loan of an acquaintance. 

* 4 While I was away, Saladin came home, and, having 
often noticed the casket before, and seen that it was 
always locked, he made use of my absence to take out 
the case, and O my lord, the unhappy youth opened it 
and looked upon the picture. 

“What happened then I do not know, but when I 
returned I found him wildly raving, lying upon his bed 
in a burning fever, holding in his hands the case, 
which no force could wrest from him. Too well I 
knew, from the wild words that he uttered in his de- 
lirium, that he had seen the picture, and that the 
declaration of my dying master, that any mortal who 
should behold it would sicken of love and rapture, was 
fulfilled in him, for he lay upon his bed devoured by a 
malignant, wasting fever, and muttering the most mys- 
terious, unconnected phrases. He usually thought 
himself in the desert, beholding in the distance the 
phantom of the Fata Morgana. He described it, as 
Abou el Deri had done, in the loveliest and most 
glowing colours, as an island of rapture and bliss. And 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


IOI 


in all these visions the ill-fated picture played a prin- 
cipal part, for it always seemed to hover before him, 
and his bewildered soul followed it over snow-clad hills, 
through raging seas, and the burning sand of the desert. 

“At last the force of the fever was spent, and I hoped 
that reason would return to the unhappy Saladin and 
banish the remembrance of the picture from his heart. 
But no, as his body recovered, his heart and mind 
grew worse. The first time that, as I sat by his couch, 
he recognized me, after many months of patient nursing, 
and spoke connectedly, he showed me the case with 
rapture, and declared that at last he had found some- 
thing to which he would consecrate his existence, and 
which he would either attain or die, and that was, to 
find the original of the picture. In vain I represented 
to him that the picture must be a mere fancy of the 
artist ; he only smiled and said, in a faint voice, ‘ O 
Ismael, your incredulity grieves me. I assure you it is 
the picture of the Princess Morgana, who reigns over a 
blissful island far in the desert. Well I know that as 
yet no mortal has had the good fortune to reach that 
island and see the Princess, yet why should not I be 
the one to find the way thither? Indeed, I know I shall 
succeed in doing so, for in the delirium of my fever I 
have often journeyed thither. It was in truth a wild 
and weary road, and the caravan to which I belonged 
was composed of strange figures ; but, nevertheless, I 
shall reach the island at last, — yes, I shall see her and 
be near her.* 

“When at first I heard him talk thus, I thought the 
fever had not yet left him, and that with time these 
strange ideas would vanish. But I wa? mistaken. 

9* 


102 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


Saladin recovered slowly, indeed, but never forgot his 
purpose of seeking the Princess Morgana, as he called 
the picture. He had determined upon a course which 
bordered on madness, and by which, he said, he could 
accustom his body to the fearful privations that he 
would have to endure upon his travels. In pursuance 
of this determination, he took no food nor drink for 
days, that he might inure himself to hunger and 
thirst. All my remonstrances were in vain. He fell 
into a terrible rage whenever I represented to him the 
folly of his conduct, and at last he persuaded me, by 
his entreaties, to aid him in these follies. 

“ He often goes for three or four days without food, 
and, besides, compels me to beat him severely, that he 
may bid defiance to the ill treatment of those who would 
dissuade him from his undertaking. You may imagine 
what I have suffered in beholding this madness, O 
my lord, but what could I, a poor old man, do? for how- 
ever firmly I determined to resist his will, I could not 
persist long in this determination, for his grief at my 
faithlessness, as he called it, his lamentations because I 
would not help him to obtain what he loved best in the 
world, were so heart-rending, — even more hard for me 
to bear than the ill treatment to which he subjected 
himself. If I sometimes ask him when and by whose 
assistance he expects to undertake his journey, he 
always answers that destiny, which has put into his 
hands the portrait of the Princess Morgana, will, when 
the time for the journey arrives, provide means for its 
accomplishment . 

“This is the story, O my lord, of old Abou el Deri 
and his foster-son, and, by the beard of the Prophet, I 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


103 

have concealed nothing. You yourselves heard last 
evening how he tormented me with his madness, and 
how I was obliged to treat him. I pray my lord to 
decide now in his wisdom what shall become of us.” 

The Caliph, as well as his Grand Vizier, had listened 
most attentively to this strange story, and at its close 
sat silent, not knowing what to think of it. “ What do 
you say, Abdallah,” said the Caliph, “to our sending 
for this picture and looking at it at all hazards?” 

“O my lord,” quickly returned Ismael, after he 
had made a low obeisance, “O my lord, do not in 
your wisdom determine upon anything so fearful. 
Believe me, the evil spell that is on this picture would 
make the rest of your life miserable.” 

“It is indeed a strange story,” said the Grand 
Vizier, “and if I might give your Highness counsel 
which your wisdom would not reject, it would be to 
provide the young man with means to traverse the 
desert with a caravan for a year at least. Perhaps the 
Prophet will be gracious to him, and in that time cure 
him of his insanity.” 

“You are right,” answered the Caliph. “Make the 
necessary preparations, and do not let the traveller 
want for anything. Send him away with one of the 
great caravans which are about going to Palmyra, and 
command him to return at the end of a year, and then 
I will provide further for him.” 

Ismael fell at the Caliph’s feet, and, whilst he stam- 
mered his thanks for the favour shown him, ventured 
to prefer the request that he might accompany his 
young master. It was granted, and Haroun al Raschid, 
commanding the young man to be brought before him 


ro4 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


when he should be ready for his journey, dismissed 
the old servant, who went back to his dwelling to 
cheer and revive his master with the news that he 
brought. 

Saladin was lying stretched out upon his bed, and at 
first listened carelessly to his servant’s story of having 
been summoned to the Caliph’s presence, and of having 
told him of Abou el Deri’s search for the portrait. But 
when Ismael went on to say that the Caliph had 
promised to fit him out and give him the means for a 
journey across the desert, the young man suddenly 
arose from his couch, and cried, with sparkling eyes, 
“ Do you not see, Ismael, that my dreams have not 
lied? Do you not see that the time is at hand, for Allah 
sends me unhoped-for aid? The time has indeed come 
for me to begin the search for which my soul longs, — 
upon this journey I shall find what I seek.” 

Early the next day there came to the young Saladin’s 
dwelling chests packed full of handsome apparel, with 
weapons, and all kinds of provisions for a long journey, 
and the generous Caliph sent several valuable horses, 
as well as some black slaves, who were to accompany 
the young man. Saladin himself had been a changed 
creature from the time of Ismael’s announcement of 
the Caliph’s bounty. In a few days no one would have 
imagined that he had lain ill for months, subjecting 
himself to all kinds of privation and harsh usage. The 
mere thought of carrying out the darling wish of his 
soul had inspired him with new life, — the colour re- 
turned to his cheeks, and his eye flashed again beneath 
its dark lashes like the glowing sun when at evening 
it sinks, cloud-encompassed, below the horizon. An 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


105 

hour after the old servant’s return from the palace his 
master arose, and, when the Caliph’s gifts arrived, he 
selected from them the handsomest and richest suit 
of apparel, and, accompanied by Ismael, rode upon 
one of the Persian horses through the streets and 
bazaars, to the palace of the Caliph, in order to present 
himself before the throne, as Haroun al Raschid had 
commanded. 

The people in the streets through which he passed 
got out of his way respectfully, and were so dazzled by 
his stately, handsome figure and his skill in horseman- 
ship, in short, by his whole appearance, that, standing 
aside, they bowed low before him as before some 
mighty Emir. The merchants, too, in the bazaars, re- 
garded him with astonishment, and asked one another 
who the strange prince could be. Thus he arrived at 
the Caliph’s palace, where the guards received him, 
with his old companion, in the most reverential man- 
ner, and without delay he was admitted to the interior 
court-yard. Here several pages sprang forward to hold 
his stirrup for him to dismount, and then led him, with 
his servant Ismael, to the apartments of the Caliph, who, 
with his Grand Vizier Abdallah, received him there. 

Haroun al Raschid regarded the young man, who 
prostrated himself before him, with a gracious smile, 
and renewed the promises which he had given to the 
aged Ismael. 

“Commander of the Faithful,” replied Saladin, 
“you have appeared to a wretched man, in your mercy 
and generosity, like an angel from heaven, and the 
Prophet will reward you for it. How shall I expresj 
my gratitude for the boundless favour that you have 


Io 6 THE princess morgana. 

shown me ? I shall find what I have so long desired, 
and, if Allah permits it, I shall be blest indeed.’ * 

The Caliph, who had at first entertained an idea 
that the youth might perhaps be cured of his fanati- 
cism, saw clearly from these words that his intentions 
were fixed unalterably in his mind, and determined to 
waste no time in combating them. He therefore dis- 
missed him with his best wishes, and Saladin returned 
to his dwelling intoxicated with joy. 

The inhabitants of Bagdad, whose curiosity had been 
greatly excited by the appearance of the strange prince 
whom they supposed Saladin to be, took great pains to 
discover who the young man really was, and no sooner 
learned that he was the son of the old magician, Abou 
el Deri, and that the Caliph had given him the means 
and outfit for a long journey, than they declared that 
the whole story of the portrait was an utter falsehood, 
invented by the old rogue Ismael to extort money from 
the Caliph’s compassion, and these envious men la- 
mented that the old man’s trick had been so successful. 

A few days afterwards the caravan, joined by the 
young man and his servant, set out from Cairo for 
Palmyra, and the people in the bazaars said, laughing, 
to one another, “See that cunning rogue Ismael, — how 
he rides off with his booty.” 

As is commonly the case with evil-speaking, in this 
particular instance it increased from hour to hour, was 
embellished with various additional statements and sur- 
mises, and became at last so credible that even the wisest 
might have been imposed upon by it. The people 
firmly believed that the aged Ismael had deceived the 
Caliph. “ Look you,” they said to one another, “old 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


107 


Abou el Deri, as we all know, never had a son. Where 
could Ismael have picked up this young man whom he 
has trained to carry out his purposes?” “ It seems to 
me,” said another, “that I have seen the young liar 
somewhere.” “Just so,” added a third. “Did we 
not see, a little while ago, a youth serving in the 
barber’s shop at the great Caravanserai as like this 
Saladin as one egg to another?” “Aha!” chimed in 
all the rest, “ you have hit it, — it is he. Oh the 
good Caliph !” 

Haroun al Raschid soon heard these reports from 
his Grand Vizier, and, although he refused at first to 
credit them, he was at last persuaded by Abdallah’s 
representations to send for the master of that same 
barber’s shop, who replied, with a malicious smile, to 
the Caliph’s questions concerning the young man : 
“Commander of the Faithful, man is erring, and the 
Prophet be my witness that I would not willingly say 
aught evil of my fellow-men. But as regards that 
young man, I can affirm that a few weeks ago he was 
employed by me to wash my barber’s basin and razor. 
It is true that he presented a very different appearance 
when I saw him again, but that was owing to the costly 
apparel and the noble steed which your Highness pre- 
sented him.” 

The Caliph, hard as it was for him to acknowledge 
to himself that he had been thus deceived, could not 
help crediting the words of the barber, and said after- 
wards to his Grand Vizier, “Hark ye, Abdallah, we 
must take better care for the future, and let people bawl 
and shriek in their houses as much as they please, with 
out troubling ourselves about them.” 


io 8 the princess morgana. 

Abdallah shrugged his shoulders and replied, “In- 
deed it has proved a most rascally trick.” 

In the mean while the caravan to which Saladin and 
Ismael had joined themselves pursued its quiet way 
through the desert, and the two pilgrims never dreamed 
of the slanders heaped upon their fair fame behind their 
backs. The young man was rejoiced that at last he 
had taken the first step that was to lead him to the 
unknown original of his picture, and that now some 
lucky chance might speedily bring him to the goal of 
his wishes. Ismael, too, was happy to leave the dull 
life of the city, and to be again travelling in the well- 
remembered desert. He seemed to be twenty years 
younger, and to be once more riding by the side of his 
old master, Abou el Deri. 

The caravan was very large, and as it carried a great 
amount of gold and silver was escorted by a number 
of armed horsemen, to protect it from the attacks of 
the Bedouins. In a very few days these sturdy robbers 
showed themselves in the distance, reconnoitring, ap- 
parently, the size and strength of the caravan, some- 
times even surprising small detachments of the train 
who lagged behind after a night’s encampment, and 
leading off the loaded camels, having cut down such of 
the men as made resistance. 

The larger part of the caravan, however, and Saladin 
with it, pursued its way without any accident. At 
first the riding over the hot sand, under the glowing 
sun of the desert, occasioned the young man not 
a little inconvenience. But he soon became accus- 
tomed to it, and enjoyed all the beauty and sublimity 
that can be found in the quiet and solitude of this huge 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


109 


waste of sand, and when the heat of the sun sometimes 
depressed him, he was refreshed by the thought of the 
Fata Morgana, which he had never seen, and to behold 
which he so ardently longed. At last, one beautiful 
evening, when the sun had blazed over the heads of 
the horsemen all day long with terrific heat, the phan- 
tom of the desert revealed itself from the midst of a 
blue mist which seemed to ascend from the distant 
horizon, and the last rays of the setting sun flashed 
gloriously upon those fabled palaces, those unattainable 
groves, and that shining water which gushed forth 
sparkling and bright and yet had never moistened 
human lips. Saladin sat enraptured upon his horse, 
his ardent gaze fixed upon the enchanting spectacle, 
until, growing fainter and fainter, it gradually faded 
entirely away. 

As the two travellers were lying under their tent that 
night, the young man said to his servant, “Ah, Ismael, 
I have noted exactly the direction of the blessed island 
where reigns the Princess Morgana. Let us start now, 
and perhaps we may reach it before morning.’ * 

“By the Prophet !” replied Ismael, with a sorrowful 
smile. “ Dear master, how strange all your projects 
are ! Our present journey in search of the original, 
which probably has no existence, of a picture, is ridicu- 
lous enough. But your plan of leaving the caravan, to 
go wildly forth into the desert, borders on madness, 
and, believe me, you will never reach this phantom 
scene, with its fair palaces and palms and streams. 
For every step which seems to lead you towards it, it 
recedes ten steps from you.” 

“But,” rejoined Saladin, impatiently, “how can I 
10 


no 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


attain my aims, and reach the consummation of my 
wishes upon which my whole future peace depends ? 
Did you think, perhaps, that this ride through the 
desert would change my intentions and efface that 
image from my heart?” 

“ I hope, O my master,” replied Ismael, “I hope 
jour visions will be dissipated, and that when we return 
to Bagdad, at the end of a year, you will look back to 
these days as to some troubled dream.” 

Saladin shook his head mournfully and lay down to 
rest. Such conversations as these were often held, 
and, although Ismael used every exertion to bring his 
young master to reason, he could not succeed. Saladin 
carefully preserved the picture, and in many a ionely 
hour, opening the case, lost himself in contemplation 
of its loveliness. By the side of a fountain which 
tossed its transparent drops high into the air sat the 
figure of a young girl, her head thoughtfully inclined 
towards the earth, so that one could see only the fair, 
shining brow and the half-closed eyes. But, as these 
were beautiful enough to cause the soul of man to sicken 
with rapture, how incomparably exquisite must the 
whole face be, if the maiden should raise her head and 
look full at the beholder ! How often did the young 
Saladin gaze, intoxicated with love, upon this image, 
praying the Prophet to work a miracle in his favour and 
give him one look into that glorious countenance. 
Rash prayer ! If a part only of this lovely face had 
power to make him well-nigh broken-hearted, what 
would become of him if once the fire of that glance, 
more devouring than the sun at high noon, should 
inflame his blood ? 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA . 


Ill 


In a few weeks the caravan reached Damascus, and 
after it had rested there for a few days turned towards 
Palmyra. Soon the travellers found themselves once 
more in the open desert, where they saw nothing 
around them save sand and sky. The rations of water 
for man and beast decreased daily, and the more the 
men were tormented by the heat the more eagerly 
was their gaze turned to the Fata Morgana that now, 
more enchantingly than at any other time, revealed 
every evening to their enraptured vision its fairy 
beauties. Saladin lay for whole hours in the shade of 
his tent, gazing out upon the desert, dreaming with 
open eyes, and imagining that through those fantastic 
groves he could discover the shimmer of the foun- 
tain by which the maiden sat with downcast eyes. 
Vain fancy! When the light of the sun faded, the 
fairy island faded with it, and Saladin tossed restlessly 
and feverishly upon his couch. 

He had often determined to leave the caravan, and 
even his old servant, secretly at night, and, throwing 
himself upon his steed, to commend himself to Allah 
and to proceed in the direction in which the Fata Mor- 
gana had last revealed to him its fairy groves. But it 
always seemed as if old Ismael suspected his resolve, 
for he was constantly relating horrible tales of travellers 
who, driven by thirst, had forsaken caravans in search of 
the sparkling waters which the desert-phantom offered 
to them, but who had perished miserably in the sand. 
These narratives did not fail to impress the young man, 
although only slightly and for a very short time. But 
his desire and love were too great, and by-and-by his 
purpose became fixed to leave the caravan. 


112 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


At last (it was on a beautiful night, and when the 
rays of the setting sun had illumined the Fata Morgana 
shining more brilliantly than ever in the distance) the 
young man stole away from his servant’s side, swung 
himself upon his horse, and rode softly through the 
rows of tents out into the desert beyond. Having nar- 
rowly observed the direction in which the Fata Mor- 
gana had been seen, he gave his steed the spur, and 
galloped thitherwards. The stars came out brilliantly in 
the heavens and grew pale before the morning whitening 
in the east, while the young man, upon his horse, rushed 
towards the rising sun. The gray of night turned to 
violet, which, growing more and more brilliant, became 
dark yellow, and seemed to encompass the heavens 
with a golden circle, which, slowly lifting, allowed the 
first ray of the sun to appear, gilding the waste of sand 
as far as the eye could reach. 

Saladin now checked his steed, gazed first at the 
sun, while he uttered a fervent prayer to the Prophet 
to guide him mercifully towards the fulfilment of his 
desires, and then looked back upon the plain over 
which he had ridden, and, seeing thfcre nothing but a 
wide, sandy desert, his heart grew lighted, and he re- 
joiced in having made his escape from the wearisome, 
creeping caravan, and in being free as a bird to roam 
whither he would. Again he gave his steed the spur, 
and galloped towards the east, hoping soon to see and 
arrive at the Fata Morgana. The sun rose slowly and 
seemed to concentrate its rays upon the lonely horse- 
man, so unendurable was the heat. 

Day was again declining, when the weary steed could 
go no farther, wherefore Saladin dismounted, and now 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


Ix 3 

for the first time he remembered with horror that he 
had neither provender nor water wherewith to refresh 
the exhausted animal after his long march. For- 
tunately, he found in his little provision-bag a handful 
of maize, which he gave him, and although he himself 
suffered not a little from hunger and thirst, he suddenly 
forgot it all at the sight of the Fata Morgana, which 
now slowly arose before his longing vision. But he 
had not approached any nearer to it than on the pre- 
vious evening, and it was only his imagination that 
persuaded him that he saw it more distinctly than ever 
before. Ah, those fairy palm-groves and palaces were 
hovering upon the horizon as distant as ever ! Thus 
the night wore away, and the following morning found 
the youth again on horseback, steadily pursuing the 
same phantom, that receded as steadily from his pursuit. 
The horse was so overcome by hunger, thirst, and 
fatigue that towards the evening of the second day his 
rider dismounted and led the poor creature after him 
by the bridle, for before him ascended again the desert- 
phantom, and, alas ! no nearer than on the evening 
before. 

When the night fell, Saladin lay down by the side 
of his horse, but was unable to sleep, so great were the 
pangs of hunger and thirst that assailed him. Hope, 
which had not left him, gave him, however, new 
strength, and in the morning he sprang up more 
briskly than ever, to continue his ride. But his poor 
steed, whom no search for happiness animated, made 
one or two painful attempts to get upon his legs, and 
then sank back upon the sand, as if conscious that his 
strength was exhausted. 

h io* 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


114 

As the young man looked at his dying steed, for 
the first time a doubt arose in his breast, and he 
thought with terror of a like fate that awaited him 
if he did not reach the goal of his desires. But hope, 
and a glance at the picture, which he carried with 
him, reanimated his courage anew, and, bidding a sad 
farewell to his faithful animal, he pursued his way on 
foot. 

To his dismay, he found very early in the day that 
he journeyed much more slowly in this way, and with 
much more difficulty, than when he sat high in his 
saddle. It seemed, too, as though his limbs refused to 
render him their usual service, as though something 
deprived them of power, for, with all his exertions to 
proceed quickly, he could scarcely take three or four 
brisk steps before he fell back again into the old, 
wearisome, lagging pace. Alas ! there were two fearful 
enemies of mankind, — hunger and thirst, — which as- 
sailed poor Saladin on all sides, laming his limbs and 
making his heart sick. 

Again the sun declined in the heavens, and again 
the Fata Morgana, rising before him, gave him new 
strength and courage, for he was convinced that it was 
not so far off as before. Fatigue soon stretched him 
upon the sand, but the sleep that fell upon him was no 
peaceful, refreshing slumber, only a feverish stupor that 
closed his eyes without giving him rest. 

When the sun rose the next morning, Saladin had 
passed four nights, since his flight from the caravan, 
without tasting a morsel of food or a drop of water. 
Any other mortal would have perished, but, thanks to 
the privations which he had voluntarily endured in 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


”5 


Bagdad, he was not only still living, but able to arise 
and leave the spot, although wearily enough. His walk 
was like the pace of the snail, and, for the first time, 
the loneliness and desolation of the desert seemed 
frightful to him. The slight doubt that had yesterday 
assailed him with regard to the success of his under- 
taking now became a certainty, and he sighed for his 
servant Ismael, and thought of the pain which his flight 
must have caused the old man. 

“Ah!” he moaned, “why did I not attend to his 
warnings? I might then have returned happily to my 
home, and awaited another opportunity to seek the 
original of my beloved picture. I should not then have 
perished miserably upon this waste.” 

The sun blazed down upon him, and, unable to bear 
its fierce heat, his worn-out body refused to carry him 
farther. He took out his picture, opened the case, 
and looked for the last time at the dear image. The 
maiden sat quietly as ever by the fountain, which tossed 
high its brilliant spray, a few drops of which would 
have given him new life. And once more the picture 
asserted its magic power over him. Hope revived 
anew in his soul, and he tried to rise and drag himself 
onwards, but his limbs refused to obey him. He sank 
back upon the sand, closed his eyes, and resigned him- 
self to death. 

Thus the night slowly approached, and a gentle 
breeze, blowing over the desert, cooled his hot cheeks 
and softly kissed his closed eyes. For the last time the 
wretched young man looked around him, and his whole 
previous life presented itself vividly before him. He 
remembered all that Abou el Deri had told him of the 


ti 6 THE princess morgana. 

wonderful way in which the Prophet had rescued him 
from the simoom, and he thought of the day when his 
foster-father had received him from the arms of his 
dying mother. 

“ Why,” sighed he, “was I rescued then, to die here 
upon the same sand, without having made my life of 
any use to myself or others? Oh, wherefore?” Saladin 
implored of the sky above him. But there was no one 
there to reply to him. 

The day had now faded entirely, and with the dark 
night, the friendly stars, and the brilliant moon, came 
the poor young Saladin’ s last hour. A burning fever 
raged in his veins, but his soul grew calmer and calmer, 
and involuntarily he crossed his hands upon his breast 
as he watched a star shoot brilliantly from its place and 
vanish below the horizon. 

He greatly errs who does not believe that the desert, 
which lies so blank and waste before us, is peopled at 
certain times of the night by strange and mysterious 
beings. Only the Phantoms and Genii who make the 
desert their abiding-place are, in accordance with the 
character of the place, of a more grave and serious 
character than the Djinns and Afrites who nightly 
haunt the shores of the Nile. 

In the middle of the night, when the moon is de- 
scending in the heavens, strangely-shaped mists appear 
and cover the brow of darkness, for the sad spirits that 
arise from the sand of the desert prefer a dim twilight 
to the bright radiance of the moon. A gentle wind 
breathes above the sand-hills that often lie thickly 
grouped around, and tosses the sand from them high 
into the air. But, wonderful to relate, the sand does 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA . 


”7 

not fall again, but rises higher and higher, inter- 
mingling strangely. Here it grows lighter, and there 
darker, — taking odd, airy shapes, which combine and 
present the forms of men and beasts, hovering silently 
about. And now white, bleached bones come forth from 
the sand-hills and vanish among the phantoms, which 
put themselves in motion and form a long train. This 
is the spirit-caravan. All who have perished in the 
desert, those slain by the sword or bullet of the 
Bedouins, as well as those killed and buried by the 
simoom, come up from their graves, and range them- 
selves in the long procession, which winds slowly 
through the waste, to the sound of a muffled drum. 
It is not good for human eye to behold the spirit- 
caravan, for both soul and body of hmi who beholds it 
sicken, — he must soon die, and perhaps join the 
ghostly train on the succeeding night. Many have seen 
it and told, before their death, of the ghastly spectacle, 
of the solemn-pacing camels, with their fixed, lifeless 
eyes, upon whose backs sit motionless men, with tur- 
bans flowing down over their shoulders, as in deep 
mourning, and with garments fluttering wildly in the 
wind. The dead women in the caravan sit bowed 
down over their horses, wrapping their long veils 
about their heads, as at the approach of the simoom. 
Sometimes he who is so unfortunate as to behold the 
train recognizes a friend or relative, who beckons to 
him, and alas for him who receives such a greeting, 
— his days are numbered, — may the Prophet protect 
him! 

Thus the young Saladin lay, on this night, and 
wrestled with death, while strange pictures were pre* 


Il8 THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 

sented to his inward eye. It seemed to him as though 
the case, which lay beside him on the ground, opened, 
and the picture of the Princess Morgana slowly ascended 
from it, with the green palm-grove, beneath which she 
sat, and the playing fountain, whose murmur the mis- 
erable man thought he could hear distinctly. He 
gazed fixedly at the beautiful figure, and his heart was 
revived anew, for she slowly raised her head, and the 
heavenly glance that she directed towards him shot 
fresh power into his limbs. But in vain ! The picture 
faded again, and gradually vanished into thin air. 
Saladin lay there and listened to the beating of his 
heart, which, scarcely audible at first, grew louder and 
louder. Then it seemed to the dying man as though 
it were not his heart that he heard, but some sound 
from the far distance, which came nearer and nearer, 
— and he was right. He distinctly heard the sound 
of a drum, regularly struck, slowly approaching. The 
thought flashed across his mind that men might be 
coming to rescue him, but this hope quickly vanished, 
for a caravan never pursues its way at night, and the 
sound which he heard came ever nearer. He could 
already distinguish the gentle, measured tread of the 
camels, and the rustling and waving of the turbans 
and garments of the men. Wearily he opened his 
eyes, but closed them again with a shudder, for he 
saw the spirit-caravan passing close beside him. The 
ghastly horsemen flitted past, and he saw them all, 
although his eyes were closed. It seemed to him, too, 
that they beckoned to him, and a dead negro, who 
was just passing, showed his white teeth and pointed, 
grinning, to a riderless horse which he led by the 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


n 9 

bridle. Multitudes of camels and horses swept by, 
upon which sat forms shrouded in long garments and 
veils, and none troubled themselves further concerning 
the man who lay dying upon the sand. 

Then a new portion of the train appeared. There 
were camels heavily-laden, followed by numbers of 
slaves, on horseback, surrounding a woman mounted 
upon a noble Arabian steed. The woman wore her 
veil wrapped around her head, and her gaze rested 
upon the ground. Suddenly she began to move, raised 
her head, and looked around with a startled and terri- 
fied expression. Her face seemed to the young man 
— oh, so well known and so kindly, — but he could not 
remember having seen it before. It was like the 
melody of a song heard now for the first time since 
earliest boyhood. The woman fixed her eyes upon 
him as he lay upon the sand, and there suddenly 
dawned a gentle smile upon her pale, motionless coun- 
tenance. Hastily she drew aside her veil, turned her 
horse from the train to the spot where the young man 
lay, and sprang down and kneeled beside him, laying 
her hand at the same time upon his heart and brow. 

Saladin hardly knew where he was. He opened his 
eyes and gazed into the face of the kindly lady, who, 
bending over him, was regarding him with the greatest 
tenderness. “Yes, it is he,” she said, in a low, mono- 
tonous voice, “it is my son whom the simoom has 
spared, and I behold him once more. ’ * At these words 
a delicious sensation pervaded the dying man’s frame, 
and, horrible as the spirit-caravan had at first seemed 
to him, he no longer felt as lonely as before in the 
desert. The slaves, in the midst of whom the lady had 


120 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


been riding, also turned their horses aside from the 
train and surrounded the young man, gazing fixedly at 
him. The lady next loosened a flask from her girdle, 
and poured into his mouth several drops, which seemed 
to run like liquid fire through all his veins and inspire 
him with new strength. He was soon able to arise, and 
the preceding hour seemed to him like a dream. His 
gaze rested upon the spirit-caravan, which was still 
passing by as if it had no end, and then he looked into 
the pale face of the lady beaming love and tenderness 
upon him, and for the first time in his life he uttered a 
name whose sweet sound had hitherto been strange to 
his lips. “Mother, is it thou?” he said; “art thou my 
mother, lost in earliest infancy, now appearing to rescue 
me from death?” 

For answer, the lady nodded her head sadly and 
said, “Yes, if I may.” Then she glanced suddenly 
after the caravan, which had now passed, and cast an 
inquiring look upon her companions, who were all 
standing motionless around her. 

The negro whom Salad in had noticed, and who had 
grinned so significantly, turned back and came towards 
them. He rode a coal-black horse and led another by 
the bridle, which he offered to the young man, without 
a word. 

Saladin, supported by his mother’s arm, walked to 
the horse led by the negro and mounted it. The 
lady mounted hers at the same time, and the train 
moved on again, quickly but silently. 

Although Saladin knew perfectly all that had hap- 
pened to him in the last half-hour, and although he 
had recognized his iqother in the lady who had rescued 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA, 


1 21 


him from death, yet these strange occurrences seemed 
to him like some pleasant dream. He saw the lady 
riding by his side, tenderly regarding him, and now 
and then laying her hand upon his arm. But ah ! his 
first impressions returned, — her hand was cold, and at 
her touch there went a sharp pain through his limbs ; 
and her face, although full of kindliness, and dear to 
him as the face of his mother, was nevertheless cold, 
lifeless, and rigid. 

It seemed as though the horses and camels of the 
caravan moved very slowly, but in reality they sped 
onward with inconceivable rapidity. Scarcely could 
Saladin perceive a fresh row of sand-hills on the 
horizon, before they were reached and left behind. 

After they had journeyed on for some time in this 
way, suddenly upon the horizon Saladin discovered 
gorgeous palaces, surrounded by graceful palms, which 
seemed to have arisen from the ground as if by magic. 

All this presented a magnificent spectacle in the dark 
night. The palaces were lighted from within, and 
shone with the gayest colours. The thick groves of 
oranges, sycamores, and palms surrounding the build- 
ings were also illumined with brightly-coloured rays, 
apparently proceeding from the many fountains which 
dotted the greensward, and which seemed as if their 
waters shot forth brilliant vari-coloured beams. 

Dazzled by the brilliancy, Saladin covered his eyes 
with his hand at the sight of this gorgeous island in 
the midst of the desert, and while he asked his mother 
to what mighty prince those palaces belonged, a joyous 
presentiment shot through his soul, 
ii 


122 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


“Ah, my son,” replied the lady, “these palaces 
belong to no powerful prince; all the grandeur that 
you see glittering there before us surrounds the retreat 
of the unhappy Princess Morgana.” 

You may easily imagine what an impression these 
words made upon the heart of the young man, and 
with what sensations he beheld the island lying a few 
steps before him, to reach which had been his life- 
long desire, a desire which had well-nigh cost him 
his life. 

“Listen, my son,” continued his mother. “What 
you now see before you thus enchantingly illuminated 
is the appearance which often rises upon the gaze of 
mortals in the desert, and which, on the approach of 
men, retreats and vanishes. It is the Fata Morgana, — 
a paradise provided by the clemency of the Prophet 
for those unfortunates, of whom your mother is one, 
who perish in the desert, whom the sand covers, and 
to whom is denied the burial granted to all true be- 
lievers. Alas ! for us it does not present the uninter- 
rupted joy of Paradise, for as long as the sun shines in 
the heavens we lie motionless beneath the sands, and 
only when night comes do we rise from our graves 
and journey in countless numbers towards the east, to 
the realm of the Princess Morgana, where the night is 
spent in wild revelry.” 

Salad in scarcely heard his mother’s words, for his 
soul hurried on before the caravan, and already hovered, 
filled with the wildest hopes, among those palms and 
orange-groves, where his eyes sought out the fountain 
by whose brink he should find the Princess. 

The first train of the caravan had now arrived at the 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


123 


island, and the quiet, motionless forms dismounted 
from their horses and camels and vanished among 
the trees and buildings in the midst of the oasis, whence 
a gentle but joyous music floated. 

Thus every train of the caravan arrived in turn, until 
the one approached in which Saladin rode, who was 
scarcely able to sit upon his steed, so great was his 
impatience. And now this train also arrived, and 
the slaves dismounted noiselessly to hold the stirrup 
for their mistress and her son. The latter hastily threw 
himself from his horse and was about to rush quickly 
into the grove, when his mother seized him by the 
hand. 

‘‘Where are you going, my son?” she asked, anx- 
iously; “what spurs you on thus? Ah! do not join 
the merry dances which my companions in misfortune 
are leading. Refrain from beholding them, — they are 
not for eyes whence the light of life still beams.” 

“Ah! my mother,” rejoined the youth, impatiently, 
“what do I care for music and dancing? Something 
far different, — a lovely, enchanting picture drove me 
into the desert and would have driven me to certain 
death, if the Prophet had not rescued me by sending 
you to my relief. But now, O mother, I am near the 
original of this picture, so I pray you detain me no 
longer, for I must see her myself, — I must throw my- 
self at the feet of the Princess Morgana!” 

At the mention of this name his mother covered her 
face with her veil, and said, softly and sadly, “Alas ! 
alas ! my son, what has happened to thee ? Who has 
aroused in thy breast this fearful desire to find the 
Princess Morgana? O my child, do not go,— do not 


124 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


join these unfortunates who pass in noisy revelry the 
few hours nightly allowed them by the Prophet, for 
your wish might be granted, — you might see the 
Princess Morgana, and then death would immediately 
seal your eyes, and you too would have no rest in the 
grave, but be forced to mount your steed every night 
and follow the spirit-caravan.” 

A mother’s request is a sacred thing. However 
strongly Saladin felt himself drawn towards the en- 
chanted island, he could not leave his mother, who 
conjured him not to mingle in the wild throng of 
revellers. He followed her involuntarily, and she led 
him to a quiet spot in the oasis, whither no ray of the 
brilliant light penetrated, and where no note of the 
wild music could be heard. She conducted him here 
to a mossy bank, beside which a little stream gurgled, 
surrounded by palms and sycamores whose branches 
formed an arbour over the whole place. 

Here the lady seated herself, and drew her son down 
beside her upon the bank, while she begged him to tell 
her everything that he knew concerning the Princess 
Morgana, and what had induced him to seek her. 

Minutely and with the greatest enthusiasm Saladin 
then related his story, — told how Abou el Deri had 
brought him up, and how his foster-father had died and 
left him alone with the old Ismael. Then he spoke in 
ardent terms of the picture that he had found by 
chance, and told of the illness that had befallen him 
upon first beholding it, and how the longing desire to 
see the original — the Princess Morgana — had never 
since left him, but that he had been sunk in poverty 
and misery until the Caliph HarouD al Raschii had 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


125 


ftited him out and sent him off with the caravan, which 
he had left, after several days, and, wandering about 
alone, would have died if his mother had not found 
and saved him. 

At the last words he took from his girdle the picture 
and showed it to his mother, who replied, “My son, I 
cannot understand by what magic power this picture 
has been painted, for in truth these are the very fea- 
tures of the Princess Morgana.” 

“Ah! see, mother,” rejoined the young man, joy- 
fully, “see, my dreams have not lied, — I am near the 
goal of my desires. Therefore keep me no longer, — 
let me take this last step towards my happiness, — let 
me see her, and perhaps enjoy the bliss of awakening 
her love.” 

At these words the youth was about to start up, but 
his mother again drew him gently down beside her, and 
begged him to listen to all that she would impart to 
him concerning this fatally fair Princess. 

“The finding of this picture, my son,” said she, “is 
no mercy shown you by Allah and the Prophet. It is 
rather a great misfortune, for if you became ill at the 
sight of this picture only, a look from the Princess 
herself — who excels a thousand times this painted 
beauty — would surely kill you. The fire of her eye 
glows so powerfully that it would even warm our 
frozen hearts and give us life again, if the Prophet’s 
mighty will did not send us back to our graves at the 
approach of dawn. 

“The Princess Morgana is the daughter of a fairy, 
who, before the birth of her child, begged the Queen 
of the Fairies to grant her a favour. When she had 


126 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


gained her wish she foolishly implored for her daughter 
such beauty that no human being could behold her 
without dying of rapture and love. Her request was 
granted, and when the Princess Morgana grew up, this 
fatal gift worked dreadful evil among men and spirits. 
For, although the latter could not die at the sight of 
the Princess, they were devoured by the deepest melan- 
choly, as they could never hope for a return of love 
from her, for when the Queen had granted the vain 
fairy’s foolish request she had decreed, to punish her, 
that only a mortal could inspire her daughter with love, 
and this could never happen, for all men who beheld 
her died immediately from the effects of her unearthly 
beauty. Ah! my son,” concluded his mother, “thus 
would you die, and I could not save you.” 

When Saladin had heard this narrative he felt the 
truth of it in his heart, and, sinking into a mournful 
reverie, he considered whether it would be worse to pass 
his whole life in unsatisfied longings or to die a sudden 
but delicious death at the sight of his loved one. 

In the mean while the night had been wearing on, 
and the stars began to fade in the heavens. The 
horses, grouped together on the sand outside of the 
grove, became restless, and tossed their heads and 
pawed the ground, for the morning wind that blew 
cheerily across the plain chilled them. 

“ My time is up,” the mother said to her son, “ and 
I must flee back to the spot where the simoom overtook 
and covered me. Will you follow me, my son, and 
wait beside my grave until another night brings us 
here again, or will you remain here and await my 
return ?’ 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA . 


127 


However willing the young man might have been to 
follow his mother, you can readily imagine that he 
preferred to remain at least near his beloved one, whom 
he promised, however, he would make no attempt to 
see. The lady smiled sadly, saying, “Your will may 
be strong, my son, but your desire to see the Princess 
might make you forget my words, so take my veil, 
shroud your face in its folds, and it will keep you from 
all harm.” 

She then pressed his hand once more and glided 
gently away, often looking back and motioning to him 
not to follow her. 

Saladin had taken the veil from her hand, and, as 
she had requested, threw it over his head, when, to his 
surprise, he suddenly felt an unconquerable weariness 
pervade his limbs. He had to lie down upon the 
mossy bank, and, after striving for a few moments 
against the stupor which seemed creeping over him, he 
lay there motionless as a dead man. It was no genuine 
sleep that thus overpowered him, for he saw plainly 
everything that went on around him, and yet not as if 
it really took place, but as though it existed only in his 
thoughts. He saw how his mother went back to the 
caravan, how she mounted her steed and sped away, 
surrounded by her slaves, how their forms hovered over 
the sand like gray and black veils, which grew brighter 
in the dawn, and before long the whole train of the 
spirit-caravan vanished on the distant horizon. He lay 
there quiet, and, exhausted as he was after his night 
of watching, he longed for sleep, which soon came to 
him. 

In the mean time the day broke. The sun arose iu 


128 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


the heavens, gilding the tops of the palms and syca- 
mores under which Saladin slept. Although his sleep 
was deep, he was conscious in spite of it of a motion 
like that of a vessel rocked gently by the waves upon 
the sea. It was a sea of sand upon which he was 
floating, and his ship was the oasis, the phantom Fata 
Morgana, which glides daily over the sand, and like 
the human heart finds no rest. 

Suddenly, in the midst of his sleep, it seemed to 
the young man that he heard a low rustling in the 
bushes, together with light footsteps approaching. He 
tried to open his eyes, and although he succeeded in 
doing so he did not awaken fully, as one does from 
healthy slumber, but found himself in the state in 
which he had been after his mother left him in the 
morning and he had drawn her veil over his head. He 
saw everything in a softened light. The lurid colour 
of the sand seemed to him a pale yellow, and he could 
even look into the fiery sun without being dazzled by 
its rays. 

But who can describe his astonishment and rapture 
when he looked around him and perceived the form of 
a maiden, who, lost in thought, was wandering in the 
grove, and who now approached him, — his rapture, 
indeed, for he recognized in this enchanting, fairy-like 
form the Princess Morgana, just as she appeared in his 
picture? Her gaze, too, was directed towards the 
ground, and although Saladin had heard his mother’s 
words, that the gaze of this beautiful vision was deadly, 
he forgot them all now, and fervently prayed the 
Prophet to grant him but one look from that heavenly 
countenance, of which he would willingly die. 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


129 


The Princess had approached quite near to him, when 
she suddenly raised her head and started with surprise 
at sight of a strange youth. 

Whatever Saladin had heard, or learned from his pic- 
ture, of her charms was far exceeded by the reality. At 
the glance with which the Princess regarded him he 
seemed about to sicken anew. His blood coursed madly 
through his veins, and it was as though death alone 
could quench the fire kindled within him by that 
glance. But, thanks to his dead mother’s veil, the bril- 
liancy of the beauty which beamed forth upon him was 
softened as well as the dazzling fire of the sun, and he 
was thus saved from the fate which would have befallen 
any other mortal. 

The Princess on her part was not a little astounded 
at seeing that the handsome young man lay there mo- 
tionless. She departed after a few moments, not with- 
out looking back at him several times to convince 
herself that he was not dead, as he still did not move. 

The desire to ascertain whether he were living must 
have haunted the Princess Morgana through the day, 
for Saladin saw to his great delight that she frequently 
came and gazed at him. And he found by the beating 
of his heart that the agony that had almost killed 
him at the first sight of the Princess was less each time 
that he saw her, and towards evening, when she came, 
he was conscious only of an accelerated throbbing in 
his left side, such as other men experience when they 
approach the objects of their affections. 

The sun again sank to rest, and the night slowly 
drew nigh, and, when darkness reigned in the desert, 
the same bewildering revelry was held in the oasis as 
1 


130 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


upon the previous night. The water in the fountains 
and streams shone with many colours and illumined the 
trees and palaces with a magic brilliancy. Music 
sounded from afar, and Saladin instantly felt that the 
invisible fetters in which he had lain bound were 
loosened, and that he could move once more. He 
sprang up from his grassy couch, and his first thought 
was to hasten to the interior of the island, seek out the 
Princess Morgana, and, throwing himself at her feet, 
confess his passion. But he remembered in time his 
mother’s words, and therefore determined to await her 
return. 

He soon descried afar in the desert the spirit- 
caravan, as it approached, and in a few moments the 
ghostly horsemen thronged in, hastily left their steeds 
and camels, and sought the interior of the island, where 
reigned the riotous mirth of the preceding night. And 
Saladin’ s mother also appeared and hastened joyfully 
towards her son when she perceived him safe and well 
in the spot where she had left him. He hurriedly in- 
formed her that the Princess had appeared before him 
several times during the day, that his love for her had 
increased a thousandfold, and that on the morrow no 
power upon earth should withhold him from throwing 
himself at her feet. 

“Ah! mother,” he sighed, “who knows whether fate 
does not decree that I shall win her love and be the 
happiest of men? If your veil has preserved me from 
suddenly dying at sight of her beauty, I have also be- 
come somewhat accustomed to its beams, and to- 
morrow I will endeavour to behold her even though I 
perish in the attempt.” 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


131 

In vain were the prayers and entreaties of his mother. 
Love for the beautiful princess had become too mighty 
in the young man’s breast. He understood perfectly 
that it was a question of life or death, but when his 
mother, upon her departure in the gray dawn, left her 
veil again, he accepted it indeed, but took great care 
not to wrap it around his head as before. 

Waiting and hoping, he sat there longing for the 
break of day. The sun again rose high in the heavens, 
and, earnestly as he had longed to see the Princess, 
now that the wished-for time had come, he delayed 
and lingered minute after minute, so that some time 
elapsed before he sought the interior of the oasis. 

How tall and stately were the trees here, and what a 
fresh green covered the ground ! He had never seen 
anything like it, — the clear streams gurgled over silver 
sands, and the fountains cooled the air. And how 
beautiful were the graceful palaces and pavilions by 
which he passed! This must be Paradise indeed. Where- 
ever he turned his gaze a new and enchanting prospect 
greeted him. Light and shade, trees and water, with 
stately edifices, combined to form the most delicious 
variety. Suddenly Saladin felt by the beating of his 
heart that he was approaching the object of his search. 
He stood still for a moment, and his breath came quick. 
Yes, he saw through the trees the fountain which he 
had gazed at so many thousand times in his picture, 
and by its brink sat the Princess, her head on her hand, 
as in the portrait. 

With faltering steps he drew near, and overcome 
either by sudden weakness or by uncontrollable love, he 
sank on one knee, scarcely daring to raise his eyes. 


I3 2 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


Thus he remained before her for a few moments, when 
the Princess raised her head and shrieked loudly, as she 
saw the young man kneeling at her feet. Oh ! that he 
had had his mother’s veil over his eyes to dim for a 
moment the full blaze of her beauty ! Although he had 
become somewhat accustomed to it the day before, he 
could not bear it to-day, and sank confused and half 
unconscious at the feet of his loved one. 

When after a few moments he returned to full con- 
sciousness and opened his eyes he saw, to his unspeak- 
able delight, that she was bending over him, regarding 
him with an anxious expression. Although he closed 
his eyes again, he could feel plainly that, instead of the 
devouring flame which had before threatened his ruin, 
a gentle glow inspired his frame. He seized the hand 
of the Princess, pressed it to his heart, and stammered 
forth the words, “Ah! may the Prophet grant me a 
few more moments of existence, that I may tell you 
how deeply I love you !” 

The Princess appeared no less rejoiced than Saladin, 
and, could you have seen how her eyes gazed into his, 
you would not have doubted that a sudden love for the 
young man had sprung up within her, and that the 
Fairy Queen’s spell was broken. For although the 
Princess Morgana’ s beauty was, and continued to be, 
so eminent and distinguished, that nothing like it could 
be found in the world, — yet the devouring flame in her 
eyes changed, from the moment when she gave Saladin 
her heart, into an enlivening glow that cheered all 
who looked at her. 

They loved each other deeply and truly, and you 
can easily imagine what a blissful day they passed in 



“ He saw, to his unspeakable delight, that she was bending over him 
regarding him with an anxious expression/' 


Page 132, 






THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


*33 


the lovely oasis. When, it was gone, and the night 
approached, the Princess arose from her lover’s side to 
withdraw, as she said, to her own apartments. 

“ O my beloved,” said she, “1 must inform my 
mother, who grieves over her daughter’s fate, of 
the happiness that the Prophet has granted me in 
sending you to me. My messenger will be swift, 
and, although she is thousands of miles away, he will 
return before daybreak and bring me permission to 
leave this lonely oasis and go with you whithersoever 
you will. ’ ’ 

After these words she withdrew herself gently from 
the young man’s arms and vanished in the grove, 
whither Saladin forbore to follow her. 

He awaited nightfall with impatience, that he might 
tell his mother of his good fortune. Before long the 
spirit-caravan arrived, and his mother hastened to 
the arbour, overjoyed to find her son again safe. But 
greater still was her delight when Saladin related the 
events of the day, and how he had been blessed by 
the love of the Princess Morgana. He told his mother 
that he should probably leave the oasis on the morrow 
to return, with his beloved one, to the haunts of men, 
and spoke of his distress in seeing her for the last time, 
to-day. She comforted him, begging him not to forget 
her, and to perform in memory of his mother the 
burial service accorded to all true believers, that her 
soul might enter in and partake of the joys of Paradise, 
and no longer be obliged to join the spirit-caravan 
every night. 

Saladin promised this, with many tears, and when 
the dawn came his mother blessed him and calmly parted 


12 


IJ4 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


front] him. She mounted her steed and glided away 
with the caravan for the last time. Saladin followed 
her long with his eyes, while he inwardly prayed the 
Prophet to have mercy on her soul. 

Scarcely had the rising sun crimsoned the tops of the 
trees and played upon the gilded roofs of the palaces, 
when the young man heard from the interior of the 
oasis a confused noise of human voices, with the neigh- 
ing of horses and the unpacking of camels. He in- 
stantly arose from his mossy seat and went towards the 
grove. He thought at first that the spirit-caravan had 
returned, and his joy was all the greater when, stepping 
out upon an open square in the centre of the oasis, he 
beheld another caravan, composed of men, camels, and 
horses. Still greater was his delight when the Princess 
Morgana approached from the other side of the square, 
surrounded and followed by a throng of waiting-women 
and slaves, among whom she shone forth brighter than 
the moon among the stars. 

She stepped up to the young man, and, giving him 
her hand, turned to her companions and said to them, 
as well as to the whole caravan, “Behold your lord!” 
whereupon the women waved their veils, and the men 
gave a joyful shout. 

“Beloved,” then said the Princess to Saladin, “my 
mother rejoices in her daughter’s good fortune, and the 
camels laden with treasure, which you see here, she 
sends for my dowry. Each of them is heavily laden 
with gold and silver, and would alone suffice to enrich 
a man for life.” 

Then the Princess beckoned with her hand, and 
black slaves brought two splendid Arabian chargers, 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


135 


»ipon one of which she mounted, while Saladin took 
the other. They placed themselves at the head of the 
train, which now proceeded into the desert. When 
they had left the beautiful oasis, with its fresh waving 
green and its clear waters, behind them, the Princess 
and her husband turned their horses, and both uttered a 
gentle farewell to the place where they had found each 
other and been so happy. Ah ! it was an eternal fare- 
well. For when their feet had once left this green 
island they might return thither never again. They 
beheld with surprise the oasis leave the spot where it 
had rested, and float farther and farther away over the 
sand. They soon saw it on the distant horizon, just as 
it is still seen by travellers on clear days. The palms 
tremble and wave, the waters glisten, and the outline 
of the Fata Morgana grows dim and blends with the 
sand and sky, so that one cannot say exactly where it 
begins and where it ends, — an image of love in the 
human heart. 

Amid the sound of small drums and the blowing of 
large horns the caravan pursued its way through the 
desert. 

Let us now return to the aged Ismael and the cara- 
van in which Saladin had begun his journey into the 
desert. 

When the morning dawned after the night in which 
Saladin had left his old servant, Ismael awakened from 
a deep and sound slumber. He looked around him 
amazed when he saw his master’s couch empty, but sus- 
pected nothing at first, supposing that Saladin had left 
the tent early to enjoy the fresh morning. But when, 


136 THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 

at the end of an hour, he did not return, the old man 
left the tent himself and noticed that his master’s horse 
also was missing. When the train at last began its 
march, and Saladin had not yet appeared, Ismael be- 
came anxious, and, searching through the throng, asked 
if any one of the sentinels had seen the youth. 

But no one knew anything of him or could relieve 
Ismael from his anxiety. “Ah!” thought the old man 
to himself, “whither can he have gone? What can have 
lured him into the desert, where certain death awaits 
him?” The thought that, in the madness of his 
passion, Saladin had left the caravan to wander alone 
in the desert, in a vain search for the original of the 
ill-omened picture, filled the mind of the faithful 
servant with distress, and when the next day and the 
next brought no news of him, he became convinced that 
his master was alone in the wilderness. How gladly 
would he have followed him, — but whither should he 
turn his footsteps? So the faithful old man had to 
remain with the caravan, returning sad and dejected to 
Damascus, where a new misfortune awaited him, for 
the slaves that the Caliph had presented to him, weary 
of serving one whom they considered their equal, de- 
camped one morning with the remaining horses and 
all the money, so that nothing was left the unfor- 
tunate man but the clothes upon his back and a few 
pieces of gold which he had carried in his girdle. 

What should he do now ? His wisest course seemed 
to be to return with the caravan to Bagdad, for he 
believed sincerely that his young master, should he 
yet survive, would seek that city, where he might 
find his old servant. He therefore hired an old 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


137 

camel, and after a sad and wearisome journey arrived 
at Bagdad. 

If the people in the bazaars and streets had forgotten 
the evil stories that they had circulated concerning old 
Ismael and the young man, the return of the caravan 
reminded them of them again, and they asked what had 
become of the old rogue. With malicious satisfaction 
they heard that the young man had escaped from the 
old one, who, poor and ragged, had returned alone 
upon an old, shabby camel. 

“ Don’t you see,” cried the barber at the great Cara- 
vanserai, “ don’t you see that I was right? Yes, yes, 
the Prophet, in his mercy, punishes sinners through 
their own crimes. The old fellow thought to deceive 
the Caliph and has been in his turn befooled by the 
young thief. God protect our Caliph, Haroun al 
Raschid ! For the future he will be more prudent.” 

Poor Ismael, who knew nothing of all the evil that 
had been said about him, was no sooner within the 
walls of Bagdad than he repaired to the court-yard of 
the palace, that he might throw himself at the feet 
of the Caliph, who was soon to issue from the palace 
on his way to the mosque. 

He had not waited here long when the Grand Vizier 
rode through the gate on his way to his master. No 
sooner did the Vizier perceive the old man than, with 
knitted brows, he commanded the captain of the guard 
to take him into custody, a command which, to Is- 
mael’s dismay, was executed on the spot. Two soldiers 
took him between them and thrust him into one of the 
dungeons of the palace, where he was left until the 
following day. 


138 the princess morgana. 

The unhappy Ismael, who had lately undergone so 
many misfortunes, received this imprisonment as a trial 
whereby the Prophet wished to prove him. Besides, 
he had no doubt that he had been mistaken for some- 
body else, as he was entirely unconscious of all offence. 
After passing the night in prison, revolving many things 
sadly in his mind, he was conducted, the next morning, 
before the Caliph, whom he found alone with his Grand 
Vizier, in his apartment, — but they no longer regarded 
him with the same friendliness as upon his first inter- 
view with the Commander of the Faithful. 

Haroun al Raschid frowned as he entered, and the 
Grand Vizier commanded him to draw near. 

“Who art thou?” began Abdallah. To this ques- 
tion the old man joyfully replied, “Ah, my lord, I 
have the honor of being already known to you,— I 
am Ismael, the servant of Abou el Deri.” 

The poor fellow still believed that they were mistaken 
in his person, and that he was suffering in place of 
another. But what was his terror when the Vizier 
continued, in a wrathful voice, “ How ! Do you still 
dare insult the presence of your lord and Caliph with 
such falsehoods ? Abou el Deri was a faithful Mussul- 
man, and did not choose deceivers and thieves for his 
servants.” 

“Oh, sir,” replied Ismael, “what are you saying? 
I am a poor old man, sorely beset by misfortune, but, 
by my faith in the Prophet, I have never stolen the 
worth of a piastre, and never spoken an untruth.” 

“Listen, Ismael,” said the kind-hearted Caliph. 
“Your denial can avail you nothing, — rather confess 
your roguery, that I may show myself merciful to you.” 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


139 


“What, then, can I confess?” cried the old man, 
throwing himself upon his knees before the Caliph. 

“First,” began the Grand Vizier again, “who was 
the young man whom you represented as the son of 
Abou el Deri, and where is he now?” 

“Ah, sir, the young Saladin,” replied the old 
man, — “he was the foster-son of Abou el Deri, but 
where he now is, is known only to Allah and His Pro- 
phet.” 

“Do you persist, then,” rejoined the Vizier, “in 
your falsehoods? Then I must tell you the truth, that 
you may know we have discovered your tricks and 
have not imprisoned you unlawfully. The young 
rogue whom you palmed upon us as Abou el Deri’s 
foster-son, and upon whom my generous master, the 
Caliph, showered his favour in consequence of your 
cunning fictions, was as little the son as you were the 
servant of Abou el Deri. He never was even found as 
an infant in the desert and brought up by you, but you 
took him from the shop of a barber and instructed him 
that he might impose upon the Caliph.” 

Ismael did not at first know what to say to this accu- 
sation, the last that he could have expected. As 
soon as he recovered from the first shock of fright he 
affirmed, by the beard of the Prophet, and by all else 
holy, that the Vizier was wrong, and that Saladin was 
really the son of Abou el Deri. But of what avail were 
his oaths and protestations ? Of what avail was his mi- 
nute description of his journey from the time of leaving 
Bagdad to the night when he lost his young master? 
Neither Caliph nor Grand Vizier believed him, and 
when he had finished, Abdallah clapped his hands and 


t4o 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


commanded the barber of the great Caravanserai to be 
brought in. 

The barber repeated his declaration that the young 
man to whom, under the name of Saladin, the Caliph 
had shown such favour, had been one of his assistants 
and had run away from him a few months before. And 
then he added, with a side glance at Ismael, “ Com- 
mander of the Faithful, all men are liable to err, but it 
seems to me as if often during the time that my knavish 
servant was with me I have seen this old man confer- 
ring with him, probably as to the means of imposing 
upon your Highness’s benevolence.” 

The Caliph heard these assertions with a gloomy 
brow, and when the barber had finished he said to the 
old man: “Hearken, Ismael, I am sorry that I have 
discovered you in this villany, and however I might 
desire to let you go unpunished, justice demands that 
evil deeds should not go unrewarded. But, as I will 
not unite accuser and judge in one person, you shall be 
taken before the Cadi of my city of Bagdad, and he 
shall pronounce sentence upon you, after a due exam- 
ination of the circumstances.” 

Then Ismael was remanded to prison and the nex* 
day carried before the Cadi, where the barber repeated 
all that he had said the day before, and the supreme 
judge of the city of Bagdad decided that Ismael was 
guilty of the fault whereof he was accused — namely, of 
imposing upon the Caliph with vile fabrications — and 
sentenced him to receive five hundred blows upon the 
soles of his feet and be imprisoned for ten years. As 
a special favour, the judge reprieved him for three 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA . 


141 

days, within which time the young man might perhaps 
return and prove his innocence 

The Caliph’s clemency also revoked the five hundred 
blows upon the soles of his feet. But when the three 
days passed and no Saladin appeared, Ismael was sent 
to prison, and employed with thieves and murderers to 
row the galleys upon the Tigris and to perform similar 
hard labour. 

To this misery the unfortunate man had been brought 
as much by his fidelity to his old and young master 
as by the rashness of the latter. He rejoiced that in 
the course of nature he should not thus innocently 
endure this severe punishment many years. For the 
first time now he thought gladly of his age, and 
looked upon death as a benefactor who would relieve 
him from all his woes. It pained him deeply that the 
good Caliph really believed him guilty, and he would 
willingly have endured a much more severe punishment 
if it would have enabled him to convince Haroun al 
Raschid and his Vizier of his innocence. He still 
cherished a faint hope that his young master might re- 
turn, perhaps successful, and establish his innocence in 
the most satisfactory manner. But day after day and 
week after week passed away, and Ismael hoped and 
waited in vain. 

It happened one morning that he was occupied with 
some of his fellow-prisoners in towing a great ship 
out to sea. The heat of the day was most oppressive, 
and the poor prisoners were permitted now and then to 
cease working and repose in the shade of the trees 
which grew upon the shore. Here lay Ismael, gazing 
out into the distance, when he saw a large and wealthy 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


14 * 

caravan approaching the city of Bagdad from afar. At 
sight of the heavily-laden camels and the multitude of 
slaves, he was reminded vividly of the times when in 
just such a brilliant train he had wandered gaily through 
the land with his master, Abou el Deri. 

In the mean time the caravan drew nearer, and 
Ismael, as well as the other prisoners, was obliged to 
confess that he had not for a long time seen so magni- 
ficent a train. The camels were all of uncommon 
beauty and strength, and laden in the carefullest and 
richest manner. The multitude of slaves seemed count- 
less, all riding powerful and beautiful horses, and their 
apparel was so splendid that they might have been 
taken for the masters of the train, if the owners them- 
selves, as they rode in the midst of the procession, had 
not attracted all eyes by the splendour of their gar- 
ments and the beauty of their horses. Here too could 
be seen a great number of female slaves, all surrounding 
a beautiful lady, and the brightness of their gold-em- 
broidered dresses and veils was so great that the eye 
could scarcely bear it. 

Ismael turned away his head and went sighing to his 
hard labour, while the caravan with great pomp entered 
Bagdad. 

Although the poor slave had often before seen cara- 
vans pass by, none had ever excited his imagination as 
this had done, and when after weary hours of labour 
he was permitted, with his fellow-prisoners, to rest 
on the shores of the Tigris, he employed himself in 
building the most lovely castles in the air, thinking, — 
“Oh! if my young master would only return with such 
a splendid train and release me, — if he would only pre- 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA . 


143 


sent himself before the Caliph Haroun al Raschid, 
leading by the hand the beautiful Princess Morgana — 
a living witness that I have spoken the truth, — and 
asking what had become of his faithful servant Ismael.’ * 

Such were his thoughts while he ate his coarse fare, 
when suddenly the overseer of the prisoners, accom- 
panied by two slaves, came riding hastily up, and com- 
manded the old man to follow him. 

Ismael, fearing at first that the Cadi of Bagdad 
had again sentenced him to receive the five hundred 
lashes, for he could think of no other reason why they 
should send for such a poor old man, accompanied 
the overseer to his dwelling with a sad heart, and was 
not a little surprised when, upon his arrival there, his 
old clothes were taken from him and he was provided 
with a good caftan and a clean turban. To his ques- 
tions the only reply of the overseer was that he had 
orders to take him immediately before the Caliph. This 
intelligence the old man received with joy, for what 
could the generous Caliph want him for except to show 
him mercy! “Perhaps,” he thought, “my innocence 
is made clear, or it may be my young master has 
returned.” But he could not dwell upon this last 
thought, — it was too great and bewildering. 

When they arrived at the palace of the Caliph, 
Ismael was conducted to an antechamber, where the 
Grand Vizier himself came towards him, and gave him 
his hand, saying, in a voice full of emotion, “Ismael, 
in our blindness we have done you great injustice, but 
the Prophet, who has brought your innocence to light, 
will reward you richly. Follow me to the Caliph.” 

Trembling with delight, the faithful old servant fob 


144 


THE PRINCESS MORGANA. 


lowed the Vizier into the next apartment. Here he 
remained standing at the door, with his eyes cast 
down, not daring to look in the face of Haroun al 
Raschid. But when the Commander of the Faithful 
called him by name in a friendly tone, he looked up, 
and who shall describe his joy when he perceived his 
young master, whom he had so long thought dead, 
and who now, springing forward, fell weeping upon 
his neck? 

The old man was quite overcome when Saladin re- 
lated his adventures to him, and then, taking him by 
the hand, presented him to his wife, the Princess Mor- 
gana. The narrative was so wonderful, and the beauty 
of the princess so dazzling, that all things grew dark 
before Ismael’s eyes, and he was obliged to lean upon 
a divan lest he should fall upon the ground. 

Now there was rejoicing everywhere. The young 
Saladin built himself a splendid palace upon the banks 
of the Tigris, and lived there with his beautiful wife 
and his faithful servants, greatly beloved by every one 
for his generosity and kindness of heart, and highly 
honoured by the Caliph for his nobility of disposition 
and his various good qualities. 

And as by Ismael’s release a place was left vacant 
among the imprisoned criminals, the Caliph ordered 
that it should be filled by the malicious barber, who 
received the five hundred blows upon the soles of his 
feet that had at first been awarded to the faithful 
servant. 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


In those old times whence most of our beautiful le 
gends and stories have come down to us, the wide- 
spreading fields upon both banks of the Neckar were 
not, as in these days, waving with grain and blossoming 
with fruits and flowers. The hills were covered with 
dark and almost impenetrable forests, and were only 
here and there crowned with the grim, frowning bat- 
tlements of some castle, whose walls are still standing 
perhaps, a monument of former years. But these 
gloomy piles whose towers and windows are now 
wreathed with graceful ivy, once resounded with the 
bustle and noise of an existence far different from any 
that we are nowadays acquainted with. Instead of 
the merry song of the vine-tender or the rattle of 
wagons driven to the fields to return laden with golden 
grain, the man-at-arms, clad in steel, looked abroad 
from those battlements, and heard only at times the 
rustle of a herd of deer in the thicket below or the 
blow of the axe levelling some mighty monarch of 
the forest. The Neckar, flowing clearly then as now 
among the surrounding mountains, saw no busy cities 
and happy villages upon its banks, bounded by meadows 
and clothed with long grass, through which might be 
traced the paths worn by the deer that came down to 
the river to drink. 

About a mile from the river was a beautiful valley, 
shut in by protecting mountains, where a solemn 
K 13 ( 145 ) 


146 


CASTLE SILENCE . 


and yet attractive solitude reigned, — a quiet, peace- 
ful vale, retired enough to escape the notice of 
the traveller journeying along the highways, and yet 
extensive enough o afford those who should dwell 
there an ample and refreshing variety of wood and 
field, meadow, brook, and glen, for it was abund- 
antly watered by crystal streams from the encircling 
mountains. 

From these mountains, ascending gently from the 
valley, there was a wide prospect over the country 
around; the winding course of the Neckar could be 
traced among the forests beneath until it was lost in 
the distant hills, which were overtopped by the lofty 
range bounding the horizon. But those who most en- 
joyed this beautiful prospect would have been glad to 
descend again into the valley, for it was far more beau- 
tiful than any other in the land. Even the deer of the 
forest bore witness to its beauty. Although the shade 
of the lofty oaks upon the mountains might tempt them 
to wander thither during the day, they always returned 
to the valley, as to a peaceful home, at the approach 
of evening. 

Yet, in spite of all the gift? lavished by nature 
upon this fair spot, it was uninhabited by any human 
being, — nay, it was actually avoided by every dweller in 
the country around. When the huntsmen and pages 
from the castles in its neighbourhood, in the ardour of 
the chase, pursued their game to the borders of this 
lovely valley, they never followed their wished-for 
prize within its limits, but let it escape unmolested. 
Sometimes, indeed, the younger and more inexpe- 
rienced of the train would follow with longing eyes 


CASTLE SILENCE, 


147 


the bounding stag, and attempt to pursue it, — but they 
were always restrained by the older and wiser hunts- 
men, who would relate to them, if they had never 
heard it, the old legend which, handed down among 
the people for many years, had caused the valley 
to be avoided with horror by all, and the least in- 
trusion upon it to be regarded as foolhardy in the 
extreme. 

These old vassals and foresters had heard from their 
parents, and could tell from their own experience, 
of some few people who, actuated by curiosity, had 
descended into this valley, but had never returned. 
They had, indeed, been seen wandering about below 
there, and had even approached quite near the wood- 
men at work on the surrounding heights, but in no 
instance had they recrossed the exact boundary of the 
valley, and to questions addressed to them they replied 
only by a mournful shake of the head, while they 
pointed, as though dumb, to their lips. 

When some old hunter, in the mid-day rest, under 
one of the spreading oaks that crowned the hills around, 
had recounted such a tale, he would lead his youth- 
ful auditors to a spot where the forest was less dense 
than elsewhere, and bid them look down. And when 
they did so, they saw, to their astonishment, a stately 
castle, whose exterior was in such excellent preservation 
that one might believe it to be inhabited. The win- 
dows shone in the sunlight, the drawbridges were down, 
the walls were without flaw and strongly built, and even 
the weathercocks upon the turrets looked as if they had 
lately been placed there. 

But a dreary quiet reigned within these walls and in 


148 


CASTLE SILENCE . 


the surrounding park. The water in the lake looked 
like painted water, the leaves of the trees did not rus- 
tle, and none of the birds flying around uttered a single 
note. 

And the same mysterious silence pervaded the whole 
valley. The deer made no sound. No song of bird 
was ever heard within its borders. Everything was 
quiet and still. No one was ever seen to issue from the 
castle to connect it with the outside world. And there- 
fore the foresters and woodmen from the neighbouring 
castles, who sometimes passed by and looked down 
into the valley, in going to and from their daily avoca- 
tions, had from time immemorial given it the name of 
“Castle Silence.” 

And there was an old legend among the people re- 
garding both castle and valley. According to this 
story, hundreds of years ago there lived here a powerful 
king, who had a wondrously lovely daughter. But the 
maiden had made the strangest vow. She had sworn 
never to marry any one who would survive her, that is, 
who would not promise, if she died first, to be buried 
alive in the same grave with her. On account of her 
vow, which was well known in all the country around, 
no one dared to sue for the hand of the princess, and 
with deep chagrin she saw that time would bring wan- 
ing charms, but no lover enthusiastic enough to fulfil 
the condition which she imposed upon her husband. 

It happened, however, that the son of a neigh- 
bouring king saw her one day, and became so madly 
in love with her that he cared for nothing in the 
world beside. He besought her hand of the king, 
her father, who answered his suit with “Whoever mar- 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


149 


/«es my daughter must not fear being buried alive,” and 
then reminded him of the vow that the princess had 
made. But the young man’s love was so strong that he 
despised all danger, and instantly promised all that was 
required of him. So the marriage was celebrated with 
great pomp and magnificence. 

The pair lived contented and happy for awhile 
together, when suddenly the princess fell ill, — so ill 
that no skill availed to cure her, and she died. And 
when she lay dead the young prince remembered with 
horror the promise that he had given, and that he must 
actually be buried alive. The old king, fearing that 
his son-in-law might try to escape the fulfilment of his 
promise, placed guards about the gates of the palace, 
and declared to the young man that he must do what 
he had sworn. 

When the day came upon which the corpse was laid 
in the royal tomb, the prince also descended into it, 
and the door of the vault was locked and bolted. Be- 
side the coffin was placed a table, and upon it four 
loaves of bread and four bottles of wine, — when these 
were consumed the wretched prince must starve to 
death. There he sat by the open coffin, plunged in 
woe and horror, eating only a small piece of bread and 
drinking only a mouthful of wine daily, pondering 
upon his fast approaching end. 

Sitting thus, it happened one day that he saw a 
snake creep forth out of a corner of the vault, and 
glide up to the coffin. Thinking that the snake 
wished to injure the dead princess, he drew his sword 
and cut the reptile into four pieces, crying out, “As 
13 * 


CASTLE SILENCE . 


I S° 

long as I live thou shalt not touch her.” Aftei 
awhile he saw a second snake creep from the corner, 
which, seeing the other lie mangled and dead upon 
the ground, crept quickly back again, and brought 
out three silver rings in its mouth. It then took the 
four pieces of the dead snake, and, fitting them to- 
gether as in life, drew over each wound one of the 
rings. Soon the mangled snake moved again and came 
to life, when they both glided swiftly away. But the 
hole through which they had entered was scarcely large 
enough for their bodies, — in returning, the resuscitated 
serpent slipped off the three rings and left them lying 
upon the ground behind him. 

The prince, who had observed all this with the 
greatest astonishment, thought, “What wondrous prop- 
erties must these rings possess! Why can they not 
restore a human being to life as well as a snake?” 
He picked up the rings and laid them, one upon 
the mouth and one upon each eye of his dead wife. 
Soon the blood began to stir within her and mounted 
into her face, flushing her pale cheeks, and then, to the 
unbounded joy of the prince, she opened her eyes and 
cried, “Ah! Heaven! where am I?” “With me, 
dearest wife,” replied the enraptured husband. And 
then he gave her bread and wine to strengthen her, and 
told her what had happened, and how he had restored 
her to life. The princess arose, and the prince knocked 
so loudly at the door of the vault that the guards 
stationed there heard him and went and told the king, 
who came himself and opened the door. What was his 
surprise and joy to find his children standing there, safe 
and well! He conducted them forth with rejoicing 


CASTLE SILENCE . 


* 5 * 

that this great trial had been so happily concluded. 
The young prince strung the three rings carefully upon 
a riband and hung them around his own neck. 

But it seemed as though the heart of the princess, 
which had formerly been faithful and true, had become 
changed and corrupt since she had been recalled to life 
by means of the serpent rings, for after a short time 
she conceived a violent passion for one of the knights 
of her father’s court, and together they plotted to 
deprive the young prince of life. With this aim the 
princess induced her husband to hunt with her one 
day in the darkest and loneliest recesses of the 
forest, when she left him, as if by accident, having 
stationed assassins in his path who were to fall upon 
him and put him to death. But, although his assailants 
were numerous, the prince, through the power of the 
rings, was endowed with such wonderful strength that 
he overcame and slew them all, and returned to his 
wife unhurt. And, when he told her of what had hap- 
pened to him, and she pretended fo be overjoyed at 
his escape from the murderous assaults of tjie assassins, 
he imprudently confided to her that as long as the 
rings were in his possession no harm could befall him. 
The wicked woman therefore, when the old king was 
absent from home one day, prepared a sleeping (fraught 
for her husband, and invited him to take a sail with her 
upon the deep lake spread out in front of the palace. 
Scarcely were the prince and princess, with the knight, 
her lover, seated in the skiff, when the prince fel} into 
a deep sleep. The princess then took a pair of scis^qrs 
and cut the silken riband upon which the rings were 
strung, that she might take them from her husband’s 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


' 5 * 

neck. But her hands trembled so that the rings slipped 
through her fingers and sank into the deep lake. At 
the same moment the wicked knight fell upon the un- 
fortunate prince and threw him from the boat into the 
water, beneath which he disappeared and was seen no 
more. But scarcely was the ghastly deed accomplished 
when all the bewildering enchantment seemed to fall 
away from the princess, — she loathed herself for her 
wickedness, and threw herself upon her knees in utter 
despair. And when she returned to the palace she 
hastened to the king, her father, and confessed her 
crime. And the old king said, “If thou hast done 
this, there is no hope for thee. Thy husband would 
have died for thee, and thou hast murdered him in 
his sleep. Thou shalt be rewarded according to thy 
deserts.” They carried her out upon the lake and 
threw her into it, where she perished miserably. The 
old king, her father, died of grief and shame at the 
end of three days. But before he died he cursed the 
castle, and the valley in which it stood, because of 
his daughter’s crime, and placed it under a spell so 
that neither content nor joy should again abide there 
until the spell should be broken. 

Thus ran the old legend, and it was rumoured beside 
that in the middle of the lake, where the poor prince 
disappeared, a plant with black leaves bordered with 
blood-red had grown up from the water, and that upon 
that water was sometimes to be seen a black swan, 
under whiph form the princess was condemned to re- 
pent her cruel crimp until the spell should be broken. 
But how this was to be done no one knew. 

All this had happened long, long ago, and no one 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


*53 


seemed to know very well whether valley and Castle 
Silence belonged now to any one. No one troubled 
himself about it any longer, and, as the banks of the 
Neckar were but thinly peopled, the valley was almost 
forgotten. The roads which led to it were overgrown 
with grass and underbrush, and huge trees grew there 
whose strong branches, interwoven, formed barriers, 
like iron gratings, to all the entrances to it. 

And yet a certain person was living to whom Castle 
Silence belonged of rightful inheritance. But he had 
never troubled himself to inquire about this portion of 
his estate, and, even when he did so, the account 
which he received did not tempt him to visit his ne- 
glected possessions. If he had been some old worn- 
out lord who had drunk the cup of life’s enjoyment to 
the very dregs, and who, weary of the routine of a 
court, longed for some solitude where nothing might 
remind him of his early folly and frivolity, he might 
perhaps have visited his estate here and passed the re- 
mainder of his days in the silent valley. But, as it 
happened, the lord and master of the estate was a 
chivalrous young count, who lived in his stronghold 
upon the Danube, where he spent day after day in all 
kinds of games and tourneys, and who hated nothing 
worse than solitude and silence. In his gay talk with 
his friends, in the chase or amid flowing wine-cups, the 
conversation often turned upon Castle Silence, and the 
young lords did not fail to expend their wit upon so 
fruitful a topic. But, although they did not perhaps 
give entire credence to the tales concerning the Castle 
and valley, yet in those days so much faith was placed 
in magic and enchantjnent that none of those gay 


*54 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


young fellows would venture to brave such a horrible 
fate as silence during the rest of their lives. 

Count Raymond, as the lord of Castle Silence was 
called, much preferred, when once he felt that he 
needed change of air, to ride to the court of a neigh- 
bouring king, of whom ’twas said that not only did 
he possess three wondrously beautiful daughters to 
adorn his court, but also that it was a rendezvous 
for all the brave and noble knights in the world. 
So Count Raymond, whose father had left him heir tc 
many a chest of broad gold pieces, fitted out himself 
and his train most magnificently for the journey. 
Every one was gay with silk, velvet, and gold, — you 
could not have borne to look at the count’s breast-plate 
when the sun shone upon it, such dazzling rays shot 
from the gold workmanship upon its polished steel sur- 
face. The bridles of the horses were studded with 
precious stones, the stirrups and bits were of gold, 
and the trumpets of the heralds who surrounded the 
standard-bearer were of pure silver. 

One fine morning the count and his train ap- 
proached the royal palace, gazed at and admired by 
all the lords and nobles assembled there, who were 
many in number and brilliant in array, for the king 
was celebrating the marriage of his two elder daughters 
to two neighbouring princes, and had instituted a 
variety of unrivalled entertainments upon the occasion. 

When Count Raymond entered the royal hall the 
king was seated upon his throne, surrounded by the 
entire splendour of his court, to receive his guests. On 
either side of him sat his two elder daughters, and, 
somewhat in the background, the youngest, who in her 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


*55 

maidenly reserve shunned the admiring gaze of the 
knights present. 

That this young princess was still unmarried was not 
owing to a scarcity of wooers, for the throng of her 
lovers was great, and in truth a lovelier and more at- 
tractive vision could scarcely have been imagined. 
The heart and mind of the maiden perfectly accorded 
with her exterior, and her virtues and good qualities 
charmed all around her. Wherever she appeared, all 
contention ceased. The hands of the rough knights, 
which, in the heat of some sudden quarrel, were laid 
upon the hilts of their swords, unclosed and were 
placed tenderly upon their beating hearts, at sight of 
the princess. Every face brightened and all shade of 
sullenness vanished like dark storm-clouds when the 
sun’s rays shine forth. Therefore this princess was 
dearer to her father than all else in the world beside, 
and he was glad to find a reason in the multitude of 
her wooers for keeping his daughter to himself, — for he 
declared that he could not offend so many, as he 
should, by resigning her to one. And in truth the 
loss of this daughter would have been irreparable, for 
no one could cheer him in his gloomy moments as she 
could with her winning smile alone. The royal at- 
tendants maintained that her lovely smile and the 
gentle words that accompanied it affected the king even 
in his sleep, and chased away the painful dreams to 
which his majesty was subject during his noonday nap, 
for when he was tossing feverishly upon his silken couch 
the princess would bend over him and, pressing a soft 
kiss upon his brow, whisper to him gently, and the 
troubled expression caused by his dreams would pass 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


156 

away from his countenance and he would sink into a 
peaceful slumber. 

But we must return to the audience-hall, where the 
heralds sounded their silver trumpets in stately flourishes 
every time that the master of ceremonies announced a 
new title, whose possessor, in rich and shining array, 
made a low obeisance as he passed by the throne to be 
lost in the crowd surrounding the king and princesses, 
to whom, and especially to the youngest, these pre- 
sentations seemed very tedious. She saw a hundred 
knights enter the hall, without paying any attention ex- 
cept to observe whether the colours of the apparel of 
one were well chosen, or to remember what a fall an- 
other had had upon the sand at the last tourney. She 
regarded them all with the same kindliness, and did 
not appear even to observe the fiery glances cast upon 
her by the rich dukes and princes from the neighbour- 
hood. She certainly gazed with as unembarrassed an 
air at each young knight who had donned his gayest 
doublet in her honour as upon any old lord whose 
long gray beard she had played with while yet a child 
in the nurse’s arms. 

But now the trumpets and bugles sounded anew, and 
strange colours appeared at the entrance to the hall. It 
was Count Raymond, with his retinue. Brilliant as the 
day, tall and graceful as the young fir on the mountain, 
he strode up the hall, attracting the gaze of all. He 
bent his knee before the king, and begged permission 
to break a lance in honour of the newly married 
couples, at the approaching tourney and the riding at 
the ring. The king welcomed him most graciously, 
and the count, as he rose from his knee, proudly con- 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


*57 


scious of his arm of steel, looked keenly through the 
knightly circle in search of some powerful form upon 
which to prove his prowess. But, although he began 
this search with a bold and somewhat defiant air, his 
gaze had travelled but half around the circle sur- 
rounding the king, when his glance lost its steadfast- 
ness and his commanding features wore an expression 
of the deepest submission. He had seen the princess, 
who in her turn gazed upon him with admiring surprise, 
and for the first time in her life returned the greeting 
of a man with embarrassment and a faint blush. It was 
a great moment for both, and if the lady in waiting 
had not been quite as inexperienced as her mistress, 
she would have known well enough why, when the 
latter sought her apartments, at the close of the 
audience, she was so preoccupied in mind and replied 
so at random to the simplest questions. 

The poor count was in a still worse condition. 
The light that he had seen in the beautiful eyes of the 
princess had changed his whole manner of thought and 
feeling. He awakened as from a long dream, — the 
shining sun just arisen in his heart seemed to banish 
the mists which had hitherto veiled all his aims and 
pursuits in life. He thought with sorrow and shame 
of the many precious hours that he had wasted in the 
chase or among roystering companions. His arms and 
his steed were now valued by him only because he hoped 
through them to win greater honour than ever before, 
and by the conquest of every opponent to attract the 
notice of the princess. And success crowned his 
efforts. His love nerved his already powerful arm, and 
there was no tourney held at the royal court in which 
14 


CASTLE SILENCE . 


158 

Count Raymond did not win the prize of victory. 
Almost every knight engaged could bear witness to the 
strength of his arm, for in these mimic fights a noble 
rage took possession of him, and all whom his spear 
touched were hurled to the ground. If the festivities 
had lasted many days longer the palace would have 
been a perfect hospital, and few knights would have 
been in a condition to join the torch-dance on the last 
day. 

But, in spite of all these heroic deeds, Count Raymond 
had never been so utterly vanquished as now. The 
fetters which bound him were strong indeed, and wrung 
from him many a bitter sigh. Ah ! it was only in the 
tourney that our brave count was a hero. When he re- 
turned to his apartment and took off his heavy armour, 
he sank down upon his couch, sighing and sending 
many a longing glance to the opposite windows of the 
royal castle, behind which was his life, his sun. And 
the princess, too, gazed far oftener from her windows 
than had been her wont, and for a long time her at- 
tendants could not understand what their mistress 
found so attractive in the old walls opposite these win- 
dows. She was strangely altered, too, and no longer 
looked upon all around her with her former unembar- 
rassed air, but sat sometimes for a long while with her 
eyes cast down, buried in thought, blushing when Count 
Raymond entered the room where she was, and growing 
pale when he was spoken of, — in short, the princess 
was in love. 

At first the pair had no one to whom they could con- 
fide their woes. This penalty all high in rank must 
pay. Even when, in some lonely hour, the count inter* 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


159 


preted to his advantage a look, a smile, of the prin- 
cess, the next would overthrow all his air-castles, — he 
could not believe in the happiness of being beloved 
by her, — he was the most wretched of mortals. And 
although in one way the princess was happier than he, 
— for she could not fail to see in Raymond’s air and 
manner what he felt for her, — yet she was unhappier in 
another way, for she had to keep the strictest watch 
over every word and action, lest in some unguarded 
moment she should betray the state of her loving heart 
to her father and sisters, or to the count himself. 

Raymond, however, had one confidential friend at 
the court, — a true and faithful knight, who had made 
several pilgrimages to the Holy Land. To him one fine 
morning the count told the whole story of his love. 
At first his friend was startled at the thought of his 
temerity in raising his eyes to the king’s daughter, but, 
as he knew how unruly and unbidden a guest is love, he 
promised the count all the aid in his power, and soon 
found means to discover that the princess had enshrined 
his friend’s image in her heart of hearts. This knowl- 
edge, in the possession of which Count Raymond was at 
first almost beside himself, removed many an obstacle to 
the meeting of the lovers, and in a short time they saw 
each other, freed from the presence of the whole court. 
The count threw himself at the princess’s feet and swore 
that he could not live without her, and amid sighs and 
tears she gave him her hand, and in secret accepted 
him for her own true knight. And yet not much was 
gained by all this, for, although in moments of vision- 
ary and enthusiastic hope the count dreamed that some 
day the king would consent to his marriage with his 


i6o 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


youngest and best-loved daughter, cooler consideration 
told him how vain were such dreams, and the two 
lovers admitted to each other that they stood on the 
brink of a yawning abyss which neither could devise 
means to fill up or bridge across. 

And so indeed they stood. No sooner did the king 
hear, from those busy tongues belonging to the prying 
eyes and ears found at every court, that an under- 
standing of some sort existed between his daughter 
and Count Raymond, than he became very angry, 
and sent for the princess to talk with her alone. He 
found that the case was much worse than he had 
feared, and that his daughter was actually wavering 
between love for her father and the faith she had 
plighted to the count. As a union of the lovers was 
the last thing thought of by the king in his surprise, 
he merely observed to the count, in an interview that 
he immediately had with him, that his distant estates 
must be suffering from the prolonged absence of their 
lord, and Raymond, perfectly understanding this hint, 
and shocked and heart-broken, sorrowfully took his 
leave, recommending himself to the future grace of the 
king. 

One can easily imagine the emotions with which the 
count returned to his apartments after this interview, 
and informed his friend of the death-blow that had 
been given to his hopes. His pride would not allow 
him to stay one day longer at court, and the worst was 
that he had no opportunity of again seeing the princess 
alone. He left for her his farewell and a renewal of 
his vows of constancy with his faithful friend, and only 
by the colours of his dress and scarf could he express 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


161 

his feelings to his beloved, as she gazed after him from 
her windows. 

So the next morning he departed, the bugles of his 
heralds mournfully sounding the air: “There’s rest in 
the grave,” and the handsome count, who had arrived 
at court in such brilliant array, was now clad in coal- 
black armour, with a sky-blue scarf bound across his 
breast in token of unswerving constancy. 

How much his thoughts — yes, even his very heart 
had changed since he left his gay castle on the Danube ! 
Sad as his present existence was, it seemed infinitely 
preferable to him to the shallow and empty life he had 
formerly passed in the midst of his gay, riotous com- 
panions. The image enshrined in his breast, although 
veiled in mourning, was yet illumined by a faint hope, 
and occupied his thoughts so entirely and so deliciously 
that it left no room for anything else. When he had 
returned from former expeditions he had thought with 
pleasure of his stately castle, and had rejoiced in the 
prospect of again seeing his men and horses — and even 
his faithful dogs; but now he felt a distaste for all 
these things and for the boisterous welcome of his 
friends, and would far rather have been left to pursue 
his reveries undisturbed. Whilst, buried in these 
thoughts, he pursued his way with his head sunk 
on his breast and his horse’s bridle hanging loosely, 
his mind suddenly recurred to his desolate, lonely 
estate, — Castle Silence. He recalled all the stories that 
he had heard concerning the castle and the sur- 
rounding valley in its quiet beauty, and decided that 
there could be no more fitting retreat for him in his 
present melancholy condition. He immediately turned 
14* 


1 62 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


his horse’s head thitherward, and, followed by his won« 
dering train, who could not imagine why their master 
should thus lead them towards an unknown part of the 
country, arrived, at the end of three days, on the 
banks of the Neckar, where he communicated his reso- 
lution to his followers. 

At first the startled train attempted to dissuade their 
lord from rashly entering that accursed valley, the tale 
of whose lonely horrors had been handed down from 
father to son for so many generations. But when the 
count held fast to his intention, and gave all those who 
did not wish to follow him free permission to leave him 
and go home, not one of all the retinue was willing to 
desert his master, but vowed to follow him to the death, 
if he desired it. 

After the troop had rested for awhile on the banks 
of the Neckar, the count dispatched one of his squires 
to a watch-tower not very far distant, in search of some 
one who could guide them to the valley and Castle Si- 
lence. At first the inmates of the tower crossed them- 
selves when they heard the squire’s request, but when 
they learned that he was sent by the rightful lord of 
Castle Silence, they gave him one of their men, who 
rode on in front of the count. Soon the bold train saw 
before them a chain of mountains, which their guide 
said were the heights surrounding the silent valley. 
Then, giving them instructions as to the direction in 
which they could find an entrance to it, he took leave 
of the count and galloped away towards his home in 
great haste. 

Count Raymond, who was far too deeply occupied 
with thoughts of his distant lady-love to think of any 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


163 


dangerous adventures that might await him behind 
those mountains, quietly ascended the heights. His 
train followed him, it is true, but one could see by the 
movements that were made here and there that the 
repose that filled the breast of their lord was far from 
the minds of his retinue. One fastened his steel cap 
tighter under his chin, another loosened his sword in 
its sheath, while a third sat more erect in his saddle and 
seized his halberd with a firmer grasp. Thus they 
reached the summit of the mountain barrier, and saw 
before them an arched pathway which led down into 
the valley, but which presented a most neglected ap- 
pearance. The oaks and beeches which grew on either 
side of it had so interlaced their branches that the 
count wondered at first whether he should be able to 
penetrate them on horseback. But as soon as he made 
the attempt the branches seemed to part of themselves, 
leaving the pathway clear, so that his train followed 
him through it easily. 

They rode on silently — down, down — until, leaving 
the forest that covered the mountains, they stepped out 
upon a fresh, green meadow, intersected by clear, 
sparkling brooks, and saw before them a stately castle. 
Fear lest they should encounter some strange horror, as 
well as the mysterious silence that pervaded the whole 
valley, had hitherto tied the tongues of the men, — not 
one had dared to open his lips. But now, when they 
saw before them the massive walls of a castle, courage 
returned, and the trumpeters put their instruments to 
their lips to announce their coming by a joyous blast. 
But, oh, horror! although they were masters of their 
art, and exerted all their force, they could not bring 


164 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


forth a single note. Again they put forth their strength, 
puffing out their cheeks until they grew blue in the 
face, but all in vain, — no sound broke upon the hor- 
rible silence around. In terrified amazement each 
turned to his neighbour to express his wonder, but a 
new dread fell upon all, for no one could utter a word, 
— all were dumb ! 

Count Raymond, who was riding some distance 
ahead, turned his horse, that he might survey the lovely 
landscape, when he became aware of the confusion and 
terror of his train. In attempting to inquire the cause, 
he learned it without receiving any answer, for his lips 
refused to utter a sound. Not much enlivened by this 
discovery, he looked back and saw how the last of his 
attendants, hoping to escape from the valley, attempted 
in vain to retrace his steps, — the interlaced boughs, 
which had afforded so free an ingress, now grew to- 
gether more thickly and obstinately than ever, making 
a passage through them impossible, and cutting off all 
hope of retreat. 

Thus imprisoned, the count, with a shake of the head, 
rode towards the castle, and, followed by the horror- 
struck train, through the high, arched gateway into the 
court-yard. Here everything was arranged in the best 
possible manner and in perfect order ; and, although 
the attendants and squires looked timidly round, ex- 
pecting some new and alarming adventure, everything 
was so natural and well ordered that, after a short de- 
liberation, they unsaddled their horses and led them to 
the spacious stables. 

The count, followed by his equerry, ascended the 
wide staircase, and passing through a long hall, adorned 


CASTLE SILENCE . 


165 

with a collection of huge antlers, came to a suite of 
rooms furnished gorgeously, although in rather anti- 
quated style. In one of these, the windows of which 
looked out upon an extensive but neglected park, the 
count took off his armour, choosing this place for his bed- 
room. His attendants explored the lower stories of the 
castle, and became quite contented and easy in their 
minds when they found everything so habitable and 
convenient, especially as they discovered a well-filled 
pantry, adjoining a spacious kitchen, stocked with all 
kinds of cooking-utensils, although these last were an- 
tiquated enough in form and fashion. Their satisfac- 
tion, however, increased greatly when they came to 
an open cellar-door, through which, down a flight 
of stone steps, they entered a spacious vault, where, 
in symmetrical rows, a number of large and small wine 
casks were arranged. 

As the whole retinue was thus destitute of no- 
thing in Castle Silence to make life comfortable, ex- 
cept the power of speech, they soon reconciled them- 
selves to circumstances, and in a short time learned to 
express their thoughts and wishes as perfectly by pan- 
tomime as though they had been accustomed to this 
mode of intercourse from earliest youth. And the 
count, too, soon felt at home in his quiet place of 
exile. For no blast of hunting-horn, no shout of 
vassals or baying of hounds, disturbed his thoughts of 
his distant lady-love, who occupied his mind entirely. 
He laid aside his arms, and, with his followers, busied 
himself in the castle park, which, under his care, soon 
became a perfect scene of delight. It seemed as though 
the spell under which castle and valley had so long 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


166 

lain had produced an excellent effect upon all trees and 
plants growing there, for with very little trouble the 
most beautiful results ensued and the rarest flowers 
flourished. The castle, with its park and terraces, 
looked in a short time like a luxuriant parterre, and 
was so lovely that the count longed for nothing, save 
the original of the image that filled his breast. His 
great grief was that he could not obtain the slightest 
news of his beloved one. He had often attempted to 
send one of his confidential servants to the court of 
the king for tidings of her, but the evil spell upon the 
valley forbade all egress from its precincts, and his 
messenger was always obliged to return to the castle 
entirely unsuccessful. 

One day our count was sitting in the park among 
his flowers, communing with them as with his dis- 
tant love. The snowy velvet petal of the lily re- 
minded him of her fair brow ; the modest violet looked 
lovingly at him from its depths of blue, as her dear eyes 
had done in former happy hours ; and when the sweet 
breath of the opening rose was wafted towards him, he 
seemed to perceive in the perfumed air a soft, wistful 
whisper that came like a greeting to him from his idol. 
Thus he sat, buried in dreamy reveries, when one of the 
snow-white doves, which he had often noticed flying 
around the castle, perched upon his shoulder and laid its 
head against his cheek. He stroked the pretty creature 
caressingly, when suddenly he perceived around its 
neck a little golden ring. With trembling hands he 
examined it closely, almost expecting that Noah’s mes- 
senger had brought him also a leaf of hope. But he 
found nothing except a little hook attached to the ring. 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


167 


to which a letter might be suspended, and by which, 
the instant he discovered it, he resolved to make one 
more attempt, to assure his beloved one of his unalter- 
able constancy. This project he carried out upon the 
spot. He wrote a few lines to the princess, telling 
her of his present stay in Castle Silence, and bewailing 
his fate in being separated from her perhaps forever. 
This note he attached to the hook which hung from 
the ring around the dove’s neck, and let the pretty 
creature fly. It rose into the air immediately, soared 
higher and higher, and, to the unspeakable delight of 
the count, had soon passed the boundaries of the 
Silent Valley and was lost in the distance. 

In the mean time much had gone wrong at the king’s 
court after the departure of Count Raymond, and the 
king, who had fully expected that as soon as the count 
was no longer present his daughter would forget him, 
found, to his chagrin, that he had been mistaken. 
From the day when the count’s heralds had played that 
mournful air, “ There’s rest in the grave,” the princess, 
poor, sweet lady, had seemed to think of little else, 
and had taken no delight in the gay revels going on 
around her. Her bright eyes grew dim, her gaiety 
vanished, and not only could she no longer enliven her 
father’s melancholy in his gloomy moments, but he in 
his turn was obliged to undertake the part of comforter, 
and attempt to dissipate his daughter’s ever-increasing 
sadness, which he did by suggesting all reasonable 
topics of consolation, — taking very good care, how- 
ever, not to allude to the only thing that engrossed her 
mind entirely. But his fatherly affection could not 
long endure to contemplate the sufferings of his darling 


1 68 


CASTLE SILENCE, 


child. And besides, the count’s good friend, who stood 
high in the king’s favour, used every means in his 
power to impress his master with a favourable view of 
the count’s aspirations, so that at last the monarch’s 
heart was softened, and he seemed inclined to grant 
the count his daughter’s hand. 

This good news was dispatched to the count by six 
couriers, who started off, one after another, with letters 
fiom the princess, each, after the first, a postscript to 
its predecessor. But the couriers all returned, after a 
few days, and announced that the count had never 
been at his castle on the Danube, and had sent no 
tidings as to whither he had gone. Then the princess 
mourned indeed, and the good king, moved by his 
daughter’s tears, and fearing that the count had either 
committed suicide or joined a crusade against the 
infidels, reproached himself bitterly for his former 
hard-heartedness. 

Who knows whether the princess, in her despair, 
might not have entered a convent and taken the veil, 
if, just at the right time, while she was sitting in her 
balcony, shedding sorrowing tears for her lost lover, 
the dove had not arrived from Castle Silence with the 
note announcing the count’s place of exile and telling 
her of the enchantment that held him captive? Al- 
though the princess was rejoiced, and even the king 
himself, at this news, yet the latter was keenly alive to 
the mortifying circumstance that the cpunt could not 
present himself at court, and to avoid any breach of 
etiquette he determined to visit Castle Silence in per- 
son, and to have the marriage celebrated there. 

The count’s friend set out the same day for the 


CASTLE SILENCE . 


169 

banks of the Neckar, to announce to Raymond this 
happy change in his prospects. A few days afterward 
the king and his whole court followed him, with great 
pomp and splendour. The princess rode upon a white 
palfrey, and had entirely recovered her good spirits 
and gay humour. Her smile again shed its light upon 
all, and there was no end to her delight. Thus they 
travelled on, and at evening gorgeous tents were raised 
under which the whole court encamped to pass the 
night. But the moon was so bright, and the princess 
was in a state of such joyous excitement, that she could 
not sleep. She stepped outside of her tent and sat 
down, that she might send her thoughts on before to 
where her heart’s treasure was. She had not sat long 
when she heard a rushing noise just above her, and, 
looking up, she saw a mighty eagle wheeling in huge 
circles above her head. At first she observed the flight 
of the bird with pleasure, but as he descended lower 
and lower she grew frightened and attempted to rise 
and return to her tent. Suddenly the eagle came so 
close to her, encircling her head in his wheeling flights, 
that the poor princess could not stir from the spot. In 
amazement she looked at the bird, and was not a little 
astonished when he bent his head respectfully, and ad- 
dressed her. “Fairest princess,” he said, “forgive me 
for frightening you ; but, while high in the air, I saw how 
brilliantly the crown that you wear upon your lovely 
head glittered in the moonlight, and I was seized with 
an unconquerable desire to beg it of you for my wife, 
the Lady Eagle. I know your good heart, and shall be 
grateful indeed to you if you grant my request.” 

When the princess heard the bird speak thus ration- 
15 


170 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


ally, she lost all fear, although she could not help 
smiling to herself at the eagle’s vanity in wishing to 
adorn his wife with a crown. However, she took it off 
her head and handed it to the bird, who received it 
in his claws, thanked her in the most polite manner, 
and, rising from the ground, was soon lost to sight in 
the clouds. The princess gazed after him for awhile, 
and then rose from her seat to enter her tent, when she 
observed something shining upon the ground before 
her. She examined it more closely, and it proved to 
be one of the eagle’s glossy, black feathers. She picked 
it up and took it with her into her tent. 

The following day the court proceeded upon its 
journey, and at evening encamped under their tents 
upon a spacious plain. The princess, remembering the 
last night’s adventure, seated herself again in the moon- 
light, and thought in her kind heart of the Lady Eagle’s 
delight in receiving the jewelled crown, when, by 
chance, looking upwards, she saw, to her amazement, 
the eagle again in the air above her head, slowly de- 
scending towards her. Down he came, and made his 
obeisance before the princess ; but this time there was 
a sorrowful expression in his eyes, as he said, “Ah! 
most gracious princess, you will repent your kindness 
to me, for I have come again to request something of 
you. My Lady Eagle found your crown so entirely to 
her taste that she has entreated me to beg you for your 
necklace, which matches it exactly. I know your kind 
heart, and shall be grateful indeed to you if you grant 
my request.” 

The princess, who could not help smiling again at 
the Lady Eagle’s vanity, could not find it in her heart 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


171 

to refuse the bird’s request, so she took off her neck- 
lace and gave it to the eagle, who soon vanished 
with it in the air, leaving behind him another feather, 
which the princess picked up and laid aside with the 
first. 

The next day brought them to their journey’s end. 
They reached the bright, sparkling Neckar, and en- 
camped at night where they saw before them the heights 
surrounding the valley and Castle Silence. Here, 
in full view of the place where her future husband was, 
the princess found it impossible to remain in her tent, 
but wandered forth to send a loving greeting towards 
the valley that nestled behind the hills. If she thought 
at all of the previous visits of the eagle, she never 
dreamed that he would return to beg for anything 
more. And yet, so it was. Scarcely had she looked 
at the full moon, when she heard the familiar sound 
above her head, and the eagle alighted upon the 
ground before her, but looking very anxious and un- 
happy. “Ah! kindest of princesses,” said he, “you 
must think me importunate indeed, but my Lady 
Eagle has teased me until I have promised to beg for 
your bracelet, that her set of ornaments may be com- 
plete. Had I not known your kindness of heart, I 
should not have dared to prefer this last request ; but 
be sure, if you grant it, my gratitude to you will be un- 
bounded.” 

The good princess could not help now laughing aloud 
at the Lady Eagle’s vanity, but she took off her bracelet 
and handed it to the bird, who was profuse in his 
polite thanks, and flew joyfully up to the heavens, 
leaving behind him a third feather, which the princess 


172 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


picked up and laid aside with the other two. Then she 
went to her tent and slept in peace, dreaming of the 
bliss that awaited her on the morrow, when she should 
again see Count Raymond. 

The count had been greatly surprised by his friend’s 
arrival, and no less delighted by the good news which 
he brought. But, as the honest knight fared no better 
upon his entrance into the valley than had the count 
and his train — becoming on the instant as dumb as a 
fish — the two friends had at first great difficulty in 
making themselves intelligible to each other, for the 
odd pantomime in use at the castle was entirely strange 
to the new-comer. 

Count Raymond could hardly credit his good for- 
tune. For the first time since his exile, he commanded 
his followers to burnish their arms and array themselves 
gorgeously, while he instantly hastened to the border 
of the valley, that he might catch the first glimpse of 
the approaching train. All in Castle Silence were in a 
state of the greatest activity, busied in adorning castle 
and park in the gayest manner. It seemed as though 
inanimate objects even were aware whom they were 
to receive, for the flowers had never before breathed 
forth such delicious fragrance or displayed such 
brilliant colours. The very oaks and beeches appeared 
to be possessed with a desire to be gallant to the 
princess, for they raised their knotted boughs, with 
which they had hitherto excluded every one from the 
valley, and formed a beautiful, shady arch over the 
principal avenue to Castle Silence. Upon that height 
of the mountain chain surrounding the valley which 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


173 


afforded a fine view of the Neckar and marked the 
boundaries of the enchanted land, the count erected a 
splendid pavilion, extending the canopy far out into the 
air on the other side of his border-line, that under it the 
king and his court might repose, as it was by no means 
likely that they would desire to enter the valley and 
become dumb. 

At last, on a lovely evening, the count perceived the 
brilliant procession winding between the mountains 
and encamping upon the shores of the Neckar. His 
heart .was brimming with rapture, not only with the 
expectation of seeing his beloved bride, but also be- 
cause a voice within him seemed to whisper that the 
pure, faithful nature of the princess would in some way 
dispel the enchantment resting upon the valley and Cas- 
tle Silence. Thus the night passed in blissful dreams 
and the first rays of the morning sun saw all the squires 
and attendants from Castle Silence drawn up in their 
most brilliant array in the interior of the pavilion. 
And now the royal train approached, and, after an in- 
terchange of greetings, the marriage ceremony began, 
conducted, of course, on one side, in dumb show. 
But, when it was concluded, the king could not re- 
frain from reminding his daughter of all she would leave 
behind her when she passed the fatal boundary-line, 
and of the many trials that awaited her beyond it, — 
dwelling with great force and earnestness upon the loss 
of speech for the rest of her life. But the love and 
constancy of the princess scarcely allowed her to listen 
to these words. With tears, she sank upon her father’s 
breast, embracing him tenderly, and then stepped 
Across the boundary of the Silent Valley to her hus- 

15* 


174 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


band, — a step accompanied by a shout of surprise from 
the whole royal train, who had always believed that, as 
soon as the princess saw the dumb assemblage on the 
other side, she would change her mind entirely. 

But scarcely had the princess given her hand to her 
husband when a wonder became apparent, for she was 
not in the least dumb, but expressed her delight and 
happiness in her usual clear, silvery voice. The maids 
of honour and waiting-women, however, who accom- 
panied her, did not fare so well, for, although they 
tried their best to send love and messages to their 
friends at home, they could not articulate a syllable, 
and their comical efforts to speak produced no little mer- 
riment in spite of the pain of parting. The king, de- 
lighted to perceive that his daughter had not lost the 
power of speech, once more gave her his blessing, from 
a distance, and then departed with his court, quite 
content. 

And now, with the princess’s arrival, anew and happy 
life began in Castle Silence. It seemed as though the 
air in field and grove were fresher and healthier, and as 
though the flowers bloomed with double splendour. All 
there were rejoiced to hear a human voice once more, 
particularly that of the princess, which was so soft and 
melodious that it thrilled with delight every one who 
heard it, and the count thought he had never listened 
to such delicious music. 

Thus the noble pair lived contented and happy in 
their solitude, and in all the improvements of his estate 
the count found an able assistant in the princess, under 
whose direction everything flourished and grew more 
luxuriantly than ever. She would even ride out with 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


*75 


her husband into the forest, to watch the gambols 
of the stags and roes, who drew confidingly near her, 
as though they knew that in her presence the count’s 
hunting-spear would not harm them. 

In the park, at some distance from the castle, there 
was a spot under the spreading beeches that the princess 
dearly loved. Thence could be seen the Silent Valley 
basking in quiet beauty, and the gaze wandered with 
rapture from the rivulets that intersected it to the 
meadows bordered by the lofty surrounding heights, 
covered with thick forests, which stood out in beautiful 
relief against the distant horizon. From this spot a 
path led on one side to the gentle eminence upon which 
stood the castle, and at the other end of this path there 
was to all appearance a small lake. But neither the 
count nor any of his train had ever succeeded in pene- 
trating to the extremity of this path, so thickly grew 
the trees and underbrush that barred their progress and 
even prevented all glimpse of what lay beyond. Many 
an attempt had been made, but in vain, to cut through 
the thick, interlacing boughs that seemed to enclose a 
little sheet of water. There the princess was sitting 
one evening, in her favourite haunt, buried in thoughts 
of how fair and lovely the valley would be if only, by a 
removal of the enchantment that bound it, it could 
once more be placed in communication with the out- 
side world. 

Pondering this, she arose and wandered down the 
path to the thick bushes that terminated it, when, to 
her no small surprise, she perceived through the dense 
growth before her a narrow opening which showed 
a glimpse of a placid, waveless lake beyond. At first 


176 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


she was about to turn back, but, impelled by some 
unseen power, she entered the narrow path, which 
had never been perceived there before, and which led 
her to the banks of the little lake. How great was her 
wonder when she saw in the midst of this little lake a 
plant, the leaves of which were coal-black with a nar- 
row border of blood-red, while round this plant, in 
widening circles, swam a swan, also coal-black in colour. 

The whole scene was so strange that the princess 
would fain have retraced her steps, but she could not. 
On the contrary, she sank down involuntarily upon a 
large mossy stone upon the shore, and, although she 
combated the feeling of intense weariness that crept 
over her, her head drooped, and she fell into a deep 
sleep. 

She dreamed that the black swan came slowly 
to the shore and told her how she was an enchanted 
princess who had betrayed and murdered her young 
husband that loved her truly and faithfully, and 
therefore her father had cursed her, and how she had 
been condemned as a punishment for her crime to 
swim about this lonely lake, in despair and woe, until 
some king’s daughter should, through her faithful love 
for her husband, be enabled to break the evil spell. 
“The sight of you, fair sister,” the swan sung on, 
“has, after a thousand years of vain longing, once 
more awakened within me a hope that the enchantment 
may be dispelled. That you did not forget your lover 
is a proof of your fidelity, and that you followed him 
into this enchanted valley is a proof of your love. 
Your heart, too, must be wholly pure and free from 
guile, or the foliage around this lake would never 



“Taking one of the eagle's feathers, she uttered aloud a wish that the 
bird would remember her.” 


Page 177, 











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% 





















CASTLE SILENCE . 


177 


have parted and shown you a path through it. And 
yet, notwithstanding all this, three things are still 
wanting, without which the enchantment that keeps 
me here can never be destroyed. These are, first 
a drop of the Water of Life, second a seed of the Roc 
flower, and third a breath of the warm gale that blows 
over Araby the Blest. But these things can only be 
procured by one who by kindness to her fellow-creatures 
has bound to her in chains of gratitude some inhabitant 
of the air.” 

So the princess seemed to dream, and when she 
awoke and saw the swan swimming quietly upon the 
water she pondered the words she had just heard, and 
went quietly and thoughtfully towards the castle. She 
was conscious of her faithful love for her husband, and 
of a pure heart, but how could she procure the three 
things indispensable to the breaking of the spell? As 
she was thinking over all this, the thought of the eagle’s 
black feathers, which she had laid aside on that last 
evening and had forgotten, suddenly occurred to her, 
and that she had some claim upon the gratitude of the 
bird, who had been so profuse in his thanks. Full of 
these musings, she told no one of her visit to the 
lake, but, when she arose the next morning, she deter- 
mined, before night, to make an attempt to summon 
the bird to her side by means of these three feathers, 
and break the spell resting upon Castle Silence. 

As evening approached, she took her way towards the 
lonely lake. Again the dense foliage parted before her 
and she seated herself upon the mossy stone on the 
shore. Taking one of the eagle’s feathers, she uttered 
aloud a wish that the bird would remember her, and 
M 


i 7 8 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


come down to her from the clouds. Scarcely had the 
words left her lips, when she heard the old whirr in the 
air, and the eagle alighted on the ground before her, 
and saluted her respectfully. “Fair princess,” said he, 
“I hope you have called me to require some service of 
me by which I can testify my gratitude to you.” The 
princess replied that she had indeed a difficult service 
to ask of him, which consisted in nothing less than in 
procuring for her a drop of the Water of Life. The bird 
bowed low, and assured her graciously that to bring her 
this drop would be a trifling matter to him. He took 
one of his feathers from her hand, soared into the air, 
and was soon out of sight. The black swan seemed to 
understand these proceedings, for it approached the 
shore where the princess sat, looked at her earnestly 
for some minutes, and, when it perceived that she had 
attracted her attention, took a drop of water from the 
lake in its bill, and, swimming towards the plant in the 
centre, let the drop fall upon its leaves. 

In less than a minute the eagle returned, bearing in 
his beak the desired drop of water, which, at the re- 
quest of the princess, who had understood the swan’s 
signs, he sprinkled upon the plant. This was scarcely 
done, when the black hue and red rims of the leaves 
disappeared, and they became a beautiful fresh green. 

In the same manner the princess begged the eagle to 
bring her a seed of the Roc flower and a breath of the 
gales of Araby the Blest, — both of which he brought in 
less than a minute. Scarcely had the seed fallen upon 
the plant in the centre of the lake, when a great bud 
grew forth from it, and upon this bud the eagle breathed 
the warm, spicy gale from Arabia. 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


179 


Then a fearful clap of thunder rolled over the Silent 
Valley, and the waves of the lake, before so glassy, 
foamed and boiled furiously. With a loud report, the 
bud of the plant burst, and a flower unfolded itself, 
consisting of a single dark purple petal, upon which 
glittered three silver rings. Twice again the deafening 
thunder rolled, and the water of the lake raged in such 
foaming billows that the poor princess closed her eyes 
and sank into a deep swoon. 

In Castle Silence the mighty claps of thunder were 
also heard, and every one, from the count to the 
meanest scullion, was thrilled with a joyful shock, 
for, instead of being forced, as usual, to express their 
wonder by signs, they were all suddenly able to speak. 
The count started from his seat, and, to his own sur- 
prise, asked his master of the horse whence a clap 
of thunder could proceed, with such clear skies above. 
The maids and ladies-in-waiting dropped their work 
and screamed aloud. The cellarer, who had a glass of 
foaming ale at his lips, let it fall, with a loud oath, and 
two stable-boys, who had been quarrelling very unsatis- 
factorily by signs only, were surprised to find that they 
could give vent to their ill humour in good round 
terms. 

The count’s first inquiry, when he had somewhat re- 
covered himself, was for his wife, and, hastening along 
the corridor which led to her apartment, he met her 
ladies-in-waiting, who were looking for her also, — and 
together they went into the park to find her. The 
count, who arrived first at her favourite place of resort, 
was alarmed at not finding her there, and no less sur- 
prised to find that all the undergrowth at the foot of the 


CASTLE SILENCE. 


*8o 

hill had disappeared. But in its place he saw a clear, 
quiet lake, surrounded by blooming roses which formed 
an arbour over a mossy stone, upon which the princess 
was seated. At this moment she recovered from her 
swoon, and sank, weeping with joy, upon her husband’s 
bosom. In a few words she told him how she had freed 
the valley and Castle Silence from the spell under which 
it had so long lain. The sky was no longer gloomy and 
lowering, and high in the air hovered a mighty black 
eagle, while a pair of white swans were soaring away 
in a purple cloud that was seen sailing towards the east. 
The waters of the lake were clear and calm, and upon 
the little ripples that broke upon the shore where the 
princess was sitting, floated the purple flower-leaf with 
the three silver rings lying upon it. 

As the count had often heard the legend of the three 
healing serpent-rings, and learned from his wife that at 
the moment of the disenchantment of the valley and 
castle these three rings had risen from the lake, he 
prized them very highly. He did well to do so, for they 
threw their spells around the princess and himself, who, 
if they had been beloved before, were now quite 
adored by all who came near them. The count 
adopted the three silver rings into his coat of arms, 
where they may be seen to this day, upon a crimson 
field. 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


Upon a high, high mountain there once stood a 
beautiful, stately castle, surrounded by thick walls and 
a deep moat, across which led heavy drawbridges with 
mighty portcullises, and on their upper part, carved in 
stone, were the arms of the powerful lord to whom the 
mountain and the castle belonged. We cannot exactly 
tell the name of this castle, but that has nothing to do 
with our story. Its walls and towers have crumbled 
into such ruin that scarcely one stone is left upon an- 
other. We now have to tell about the family who lived 
there. It was not destroyed with the castle, but was 
saved by the accidental preservation of a very young 
branch of this famous line of Schreckenberg. It had 
from time immemorial done justice to its name, which 
signifies “ Terrible-mountain,” for if a train of mer- 
chants or others approached this stronghold, in their 
travels, they did it with terror : a falcon does not more 
surely perceive a dove than did the men-at-arms, watch- 
ing on the towers of the castle, the procession of mer- 
chants in the valley below, even though they marched 
in the night that they might pass the dreaded fortress 
under cover of darkness. It really seemed as though 
its inmates were in league with evil spirits. The armed 
escorts which accompanied the trains were never able 
j6 ( 181 ) 


I 82 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


to get the goods, which they were protecting, safely 
past this castle. The inhabitants of the neighbour- 
ing towns had often banded together and attempted for 
months to beleaguer the Schreckenberg on all sides, 
but in vain. The good citizens found, sooner or later, 
that it was better to spare a bale of silk, now and then, 
to the lord of Schreckenberg, for dresses for his lady- 
wife, or a wagon-load of skins for his men, than ex- 
pose themselves to the darts from his mangonels, and 
tnus put their own skins in peril. 

The last of the illustrious and renowned family of 
Schreckenberg was Fritz of Schreckenberg, the worst 
and wildest of them all, and yet he was much more 
beloved than any others ever had been. Although he 
never allowed a train of merchants to pass by his castle 
without plundering them, he always left them some- 
thing, and often contented himself with one-half of 
their goods. He never bore off to his castle the 
merchants or horsemen whom he attacked, and as 
long as Fritz reigned there, the castle-dungeons were 
empty. Neither did he ever make expeditions into 
the surrounding country, as those before him had done, 
but sat like a spider in its web, and only took what 
came within his clutches. This conduct was owing 
partly to his own natural good humour and partly to a 
prophecy which had been made to one of his ancestors 
and which designated the tenth Schreckenberg as the 
one under whom the castle should fall into decay so 
that not one stone should be left upon another. The 
death of his dearly-loved and gentle wife made the lord 
of Schreckenberg still more heedful of this prophecy, 
and often plunged him into melancholy. In his youth 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


183 

Fritz had been married, but did not long enjoy the 
possession of his lovely wife, for, after having borne 
him a son, whom he had christened Kuno, she lived 
only one year, and then sought that heaven to which 
she clearly belonged, so pious and gentle was she. 

But what in especial reminded the noble knight of 
the old prophecy was a dream which his wife dreamed 
three times just before her death, and which she re- 
lated to him. She dreamed that, looking down from 
heaven, she saw the castle in flames, heard the crash 
of the battering-rams and the shouts of the besiegers, 
and saw her husband fight bravely and then fall with 
his sword in his hand, but she shortly had the con- 
solation of having him with her in heaven. With her 
child, the little Kuno, it was far otherwise. She saw 
plainly the apartment where the little follow had hidden 
himself in a large arm-chair, terrified at the tumult and 
noise; and how his attendants raq away, frightened, 
and left him alone. She shuddered, whpn the flames 
spread more and mpre, and she heard the noise grow 
louder, and perceived no means of escape for fhe child. 
Then, suddenly, \\p lpoked up cheerfully, and ran 
to a corner of the room where stood a great copper 
tankard that she had never seen before. He seized 
it by the handle, and she dreamed thg,t the tapkard 
glided ^wiffly away, with the child clinging to it. She 
saw it float down the burning stairs, over the shattered 
dra\yt|ridge and rqinous walls, to the clear fields with- 
out, where the boy and tankard vanished. As I s^id 
before, the poor lady dreamed this three times withqut 
any change, and related it minutely to her husband, 
who w^s npt gieatjy edifled thereby. But he listened 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


184 

quietly, and thought, wisely enough, “ No one can avert 
his destiny, I’m sure I cannot. Let us calmly await 
the inevitable.” At the request of the sick countess, 
all the old rubbish in the castle was overhauled, in 
hopes of finding a tankard which should bear some re- 
semblance to the one she had seen in her dream, and 
such an one was actually found. It was an old copper 
vessel that had lain about for many years without at- 
tracting any one’s attention. Now it was brought out 
and cleansed from dirt and dust, when it was found 
that upon its sides were engraved coats of arms and all 
sorts of entertaining scenes, tournaments, battles, etc. 
The tankard was, by the countess’s command, made 
the constant plaything of the young Kuno, who was 
not a little delighted with his new acquisition. It 
seemed indeed as though the child knew of how much 
importance this tankard, according to his mother’s 
dream, would one day become to him, for after it was 
given to him he disliked to part with it, and would 
amuse himself for hours tracing with his little finger 
the strange pictures engraved upon its sides. 

It was as if the feeble spark of life within the 
countess’s breast had only tarried until she might fulfil 
her desire concerning the tankard, and as though she 
felt that she had committed her boy to the protec- 
tion of a powerful guardian spirit. A few weeks after 
the finding of the vessel, she closed her eyes and 
left this wicked world, to seek the purer joys of 
heaven. The count was naturally much distressed 
at her death, and appeared to have lost all desire to 
pursue his former robber-career. The esquire upon the 
highest tower in vain descried whole trains of travelling 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


185 


merchants, — his master, pondering the ancient proph- 
ecy, had no desire to call down Heaven’s wrath upon 
his head any sooner than had been decreed ; on the 
contrary, he did all that he could to induce Heaven to 
regard him favourably. He built convents, heaped 
wealth upon poor pilgrims, and lived quiet and retired 
in his castle. He liked far better to sit with little 
Kuno by his side, and drink the best wine in his cellar 
from the copper tankard, than to ride plundering 
about over hills and fields. He would tell of his early 
adventures for hours at a time, or play with the boy 
until the wine began to stupefy him and he went quietly 
to sleep. This often happened, and he imagined that 
his dreams were much pleasanter than usual, when he 
drank out of the copper tankard. It is true that at such 
times he often dreamed, as his wife had done, of the 
ruin of his castle, but he always saw from the decay a 
lovely flower arise — -the crown imperial — and wave 
proudly above the grass and flowers which grew 
around it. 

The little Kuno got to be ten years old, and, as 
the Count of Schreckenberg no longer molested trav- 
ellers, and was at peace with the knights in the 
neighbourhood, he began gradually to consider his 
wife’s dreams, as well as the ancient prophecy, as some- 
thing quite visionary and incredible. Unfortunately, 
he could not long repose in this belief. Suddenly a 
band of men from a neighbouring country devastated 
the land, and a universal bloody war arose. Then Fritz 
of Schreckenberg knew that his hour had come, and, 
calling together his vassals and retainers, he chose the 
stoutest from among them, and with their help buried 
16* 


1 86 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


his principal treasures. After he had given these men 
a generous part of his wealth, he made them swear a 
solemn oath that if he did not escape with his life they 
would care for his son. He then fortified his castle as 
strongly as he could, and awaited the issue, which was 
quick and sad enough. 

Everything happened which the dying countess had 
foreseen in her dream. The castle was stormed, and the 
count fell, as did his best men, — indeed, all of those 
who had taken the oath to succour his child and who 
preferred to fulfil the first oath that they had taken — 
that of fidelity to their lord, in fulfilment of which 
they stood, fought, and died by his side. The castle 
walls were so shattered that not one stone remained 
upon another, and, as the attendants of the little Kuno 
obeyed the impulse “each for himself,” the poor child 
was left alone, and no living soul knew what had 
become of him. 

While all the evil which the countess had foreseen was 
thus fulfilled, the good which she had prophesied was 
also realized, and the little Kuno was preserved in a 
wonderful and mysterious manner. When the uproar 
arose around the castle, he listened at first to the 
blasts of the horns and the shouts of the besiegers with- 
out fear, but his childish delight only lasted until the 
windows of the apartment where he was were reddened 
by the flames of the burning rafters, and until the 
battle-cries of the combatants, mingled with the groans 
of the wounded, became audible in the passages and 
stairways near him. Then he was seized with an inde- 
finable terror, and he tried to open the door, which his 
faithless attendants had shut tightly behind them when 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


187 

they left him. But, as he was too weak to do this, he 
hastened to his old playfellow, the copper tankard, 
which stood in the corner, and, seizing it by the handle, 
called weeping upon his father. 

The connection in his mind of the tankard with 
his father was very natural. He had seen the old 
lord with this vessel constantly in his hand. But Fritz 
of Schreckenberg could not hear his child’s cries. 
It was just at this moment that he fell lifeless to 
the ground, struck down by the weapon of an enemy. 
After the boy had called his father and attendants 
several times in vain, he suddenly felt himself gently 
drawn along, as though the tankard were a living being 
taking him with it. The door sprang open, and Kuno 
glided through it, down the burning stairs, without 
being singed by the flames, and past the crumbling 
walls, without a stone’s touching him. Thus he went 
swiftly through the court-yard towards the great gate, 
and would soon have been beyond the castle precincts, 
when he heard close to him the cries of a boy who, 
in former, happy days, had often been his playfellow. 
His name was Wolf, and he was the warder’s son. 

Kuno no sooner heard his old playfellow’s voice, 
than he answered it,“ Here, here !” and added / 4 Hurry, 
dear Wolf, and come quickly, or we shall both be burnt 
up !” Wolf made no delay in jumping out of his hiding- 
place — an immense water-butt — and came, running 
quickly. He had scarcely touched Kuno’s dress, when 
the invisible power which had borne the boy unhurt 
down the burning stairs was again exerted, and the two 
children hurried safely onwards. They hardly knew 
how they got to the foot of the mountain ; they ran a 


i88 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


long way through the fields without being tired, and 
when, sometimes, they turned back to see whence they 
had come, they beheld Kuno’s paternal castle in flames, 
at which sight they both burst into tears, without, how- 
ever, staying their flight for an instant. Then they 
ascended other mountains, and their burning home 
began to grow indistinct, and soon they saw nothing 
of it but a red reflection against the sky. Evening 
had already set in. 

The boys now suddenly felt extremely tired, and 
looked about for some place where they could pass the 
night. But they could see nothing, tar or near, save 
heaths and forests, mountains and valleys, — no house, 
not even a poor shed, under which they might creep 
to avoid passing the night in the open air. They sat 
down upon the green moss under a tree, and, after re- 
garding each other with mournful looks, and moaning 
deeply, they burst into fresh tears and felt that they 
had indeed lost everything. “Ah!” sobbed Kuno, 
“ where can my papa be? They have killed him, and 
he is dead!” “Yes,” added Wolf, “and mine, and 
my mother, and my little sister 1” “All, all dead,” 
interrupted Kuno, “all dead and gone!” 

At these words their tears burst forth anew, and 
they sobbed together. But, as no one was near to pity 
them and beg them not to cry any more, they soon 
stopped, and Wolf, who was two years older than 
Kuno, tried to divert his companion’s thoughts. “Yes, 
dear Kuno,” said he, “we are unhappy indeed, for we 
have lost everything. What is to be done? There is 
no house near to receive us, so we must sleep in the 
open air, and I don’t think it will kill us. Don’t you 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


189 


remember that your father told us that when he was a 
little boy he went out hunting, and that the whole train 
lost their way, and that he, as well as the oldest esquire, 
had to sleep upon the ground, and that it did him no 
harm? So we will lie down close together, and see if 
we too cannot sleep under the open sky.” 

Kuno was indeed somewhat comforted by these words 
from his companion in misfortune, and, as he as well 
as Wolf was a stout-hearted boy, he assented, and they 
looked for a fitting sleeping-place. Kuno had until 
this moment held the copper tankard — to which, with- 
out knowing it, they both owed their preservation — 
firmly in his hand, for this cup, his sole inheritance, 
reminded him so vividly of his ruined home, his father 
and his mother, that he felt comforted in having it 
near him. 

After the two boys had looked around them for some 
time, they found a hollow oak lined with the softest 
moss. Wolf made his companion creep in first, that 
with his tankard he might have the safest and best 
place, while he himself lay down in the entrance, that 
in case of danger he might be able to protect his little 
friend. 

Both fell sound asleep, and, as they were very weary, 
they did not wake until the sun had climbed to the tops 
of the mountains and sent its red, quivering rays into 
the hollow tree. Then they sprang up, crept out of 
their shelter, and held a council as to the best course 
to pursue. Kuno thought it would be advisable to re- 
trace their steps to the castle, to see if perhaps one of 
his father’s friends, who could help them, might yet 
survive. But Wolf disapproved of this plan, assuring 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


190 

his little friend that the enemy was swarming in the 
neighbourhood to collect booty, and that they should 
certainly be killed if they showed themselves. This 
satisfied Kuno, and they determined to wander through 
the country, trying to support themselves in some 
way. They plucked, for breakfast, some berries which 
were growing around, and then went to a little brook 
which gurgled through the grass not far from their 
shelter-tree. Here they filled the tankard with clear 
water, and, when they had both taken a drink, were 
not a little surprised to find that, notwithstanding 
the little that they had eaten, they were no longer 
hungry. 

Then they set out with renewed strength, and, turn- 
ing their backs towards the quarter where they supposed 
their old home was, they walked on without turning to 
the right or left, they knew not whither. The only thing 
to which they gave heed was the nature of the soil over 
which they passed. At one time they would make a 
great circuit that they might avoid wading through a 
swamp, and at another they had to walk for a long time 
on the edge of a wood along which ran a deep ditch. 
Thus they toiled wearily on all day long. And when the 
sun set they had no prospect of passing the night more 
comfortably than the last. There were no signs of 
human habitation around them, no cultivated fields or 
fruit-trees, — nothing save dreary heaths through which 
here and there rippled desolately a half-dried up brook. 
The forests consisted of black, gloomy firs, whose 
branches hung sadly down upon the ground, and which 
moaned and sighed fitfully when the wind swept through 
them. It grew darker and darker, and the two boys 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


I 9 1 

seated themselves on the banks of a little stream, and, 
as during their day’s march they had found no berries 
to satisfy their hunger, they filled their tankard with 
water from the brook and took a deep draught. 

But what was their astonishment when, upon drink- 
ing, they discovered, as in the morning, that their 
hunger was as perfectly satisfied as though they had 
eaten an excellent meal! They soon fell quietly 
asleep, and, awaking strengthened and refreshed 
in the morning, they pursued their way. It was now 
the third day since they had left home, and, alas ! 
their future looked no brighter than at first. They 
walked on, across moors, through fir forests, and over 
moors again, until the afternoon, and just as the sun 
was beginning to set they saw before them in the 
distance a mountain-chain covered with firs and other 
fresh green, where they hoped at last to find human 
habitations and some assistance. They refreshed them- 
selves again with a draught of clear water, and strode 
onwards so stoutly that at nightfall they had reached 
the mountains. The hope of finding men and 

human dwellings upon these hills would not allow 

them to spread their nightly couch under the open 
air in the valley, but they began bravely to ascend 

the steep elevation to search for a house or village 

above. Behind them rose the full moon, illumining 
their path brilliantly, and this was of great assistance 
to them, for the higher they went the steeper and 
more rocky grew the path. Great masses of stone, 
over which they climbed only with great difficulty, 
at times blocked their way, and then the bushes 
and fallen trunks of trees would make their progress 


192 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


almost impossible. But after several most laborious 
hours they reached the top of the mountain and threw 
themselves exhausted upon the ground, under an oak, 
to rest awhile. After their fatigue had lessened some- 
what, Wolf climbed into the tree and surveyed the 
country all around. Just before them the forest de- 
scended, and it seemed as though the group of moun- 
tains, upon which they were, enclosed in a great half- 
circle a quiet valley. And this was really so ; but, with 
all his exertions, Wolf could see nothing around him 
except the tops of the trees. Something, it is true, 
glistened among them here and there, which, when he 
strained his gaze, seemed to be a large round lake upon 
which the moon shone brightly. Kuno, who was not 
contented with the comfortless description that Wolf 
gave of the prospect, insisted upon climbing the tree 
himself, which he did, still holding his dear tankard in 
his hand. When he too stood in the tree-top, the two 
boys again looked sharply about them, and, although 
Wolf insisted that there was nothing to be seen, Kuno 
suddenly cried out that he could see a little house down 
there, and pointed to it with his finger. But, although 
Wolf wiped his eyes and gazed so earnestly that the 
trees seemed to dance around him, he could see nothing 
until, accidentally, he laid his hand upon the copper 
tankard, and then he instantly saw the little house of 
which Kuno had spoken. He could not imagine how 
he could have missed seeing before what was now so 
plain before his eyes. After he had taken the pre- 
caution of throwing his cap from the tree in the 
direction of the house, both came down and betook 
themselves thither. They found the descent into the 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


193 


valley much easier than the ascent of the mountain 
had been, but they were obliged to walk quickly for 
two good hours before they reached the small house, 
which had seemed so near when seen from the top of 
the tree. 

At last they stepped out of the forest upon a grassy 
opening, in the midst of which was a little garden sur- 
rounding a cottage. The little garden was enclosed by 
a fence made of white and red coral tipped with silver 
snakes’ -heads. They walked round and round this 
fence many times, vainly seeking for a gate that they 
might open. They were just about to climb over it, 
when Kuno, who carried the copper tankard in his 
hand, accidentally touched the coral fence with it in 
passing, and instantly a gate sprang open and admitted 
them to the garden. It closed immediately behind 
them, and so perfectly were the coral stakes and rails 
fitted together that they in vain attempted to discover 
the opening through which they had come. This was 
surprising enough, but at sight of the garden they were 
almost beside themselves with wonder. The paths 
that wound among the flower-beds shone as though 
they were covered with silver dust. And their bril- 
liancy was nothing to that of the flowers which grew 
in the beds. It was like a shower of diamonds, 
rubies, emeralds, pearls, gold, and silver, — this splen- 
dour that danced and glittered before the eyes of 
the astonished boys. They were so dazzled that they 
could not examine these wonderful plants more closely. 
Wolf besought his companion not to stay too long 
in the strange garden, but to go with him directly to 
the cottage, that the owner might not complain of 
17 


N 


194 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


their wandering so long in his grounds without asking 
his permission. 

So, as silently as possible, they approached the cot- 
tage that stood before them. Its four walls were of 
smooth, white marble, and the windows seemed to 
be huge brilliants framed and set in gold. The roof 
consisted of red coral with its branches all sticking 
upright, and, like the fence, every point was surmounted 
by a silver snake’s-head ; it seemed as though thousands 
of red snakes were writhing there. The two boys 
now stood before the golden door, and Wolf knocked 
modestly to attract the attention of the inmates. He 
knocked once, twice, three times, but no one came 
to open the door. As they thought that every one 
within must be asleep, they knocked more loudly, and 
when this was of no avail the two boys raised their 
voices and begged imploringly to be admitted, saying 
that they were two poor children who had lost their 
way and did not know where they should pass the 
night. In vain; no one appeared, and not the slightest 
noise was heard within the house. Kuno, who was very 
weary, sat down upon the ground before the door, and 
in doing so accidentally knocked his copper tankard 
against it, when it instantly flew open. 

Wolf, in great astonishment, started back and did 
not dare to enter. But at last both took courage, and 
after they had once more called upon the inmates, who- 
ever they might be, and who were neither to be seen 
nor heard, they passed through the door and came to 
a little room furnished with great magnificence. What 
surprised and delighted them most was the sight of two 
beds there. Timidly and anxiously they drew near 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


x 95 

them, to see if they contained any one. But, although 
they turned back the coverlets and even looked under 
the beds, they could find no one. Whereupon, after 
a short consultation, fatigue prevailed, and they de- 
cided to get into these beds themselves. They there- 
fore undressed and crept under the silken covers, said 
their evening prayers, and were soon fast asleep. 

As is often the case with children who sleep for the 
first time in a strange place, though upon ever so soft 
a bed, and in ever so beautiful a room, these two boys 
awoke much earlier than usual. And this morning 
there was an additional cause for an early awakening. 
As soon as the day broke above the mountain-tops the 
windows began to glitter and shine and shoot forth 
thousands of such red, yellow, white, and green rays, 
that it was enough to awaken the dead. Kuno first 
rubbed his eyes, and, with a cry of admiration, looked 
around. He had just been dreaming that they had 
gone to sleep, as before, under an oak, and had been 
awakened by the dampness of the moss and the cold, 
sharp morning air. All the more charmed was he to 
find himself actually awake, in a finer and softer bed 
than he had ever slept in at home. As for Wolf, 
who had never imagined such luxury, he stretched 
and turned under the silken counterpane, and could 
hardly make up his mind to get out of bed. But 
the curiosity which the many wonderful and beautiful 
objects around excited in the boys would not let them 
rest any longer. They sprang up, slipped on their 
clothes, and began a minute examination of the room. 
Everything was strangely magnificent. The night be- 
fore, the darkness had prevented their seeing much 


196 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


around them, so now they were all the more amazed 
and charmed. 

The bedsteads in the room were especially remark^ 
able. They were of gold, and the feet represented 
beautiful writhing snakes bearing the frame upon their 
heads. After the two children had gazed their fill, 
they went out into the garden, and, if they had ad- 
mired the flowers there on the preceding evening, they 
were enchanted when they saw them in the light of the 
morning sun. Everything was so splendid that each 
called out to the other that he could spend his life 
here. The slopes of the mountains surrounding this 
valley were covered with the freshest green, sparkling 
with dewdrops that looked like diamonds in the light 
of the morning sun. The water of a little brook, that 
tumbled plashing down the mountain -side, was col- 
lected in a marble basin below, and thence flowed 
gently through the lovely garden. 

After the boys had refreshed themselves with a 
draught of water, they determined to explore the valley, 
to find, if they could, the owner of the cottage. They 
longed to ask him if they might stay in this lovely spot, 
and if allowed to do so, were ready to promise to keep 
the garden in perfect order and make themselves useful 
in everyway. With this intention Kuno took the tank- 
ard under his arm, and they both left the garden. They 
followed the course of the brook, which ran for a short 
distance through green meadows and then entered the 
grove that extended through the larger part of the 
valley. The boys were so invigorated by their sound 
night’s sleep that they sang and shouted. Besides, 
they hoped thus to attract the attention of the master 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


197 


t»t the house, who might be walking in the grove. It 
seemed to them at first rather strange that there were 
no birds here to reply to their singing. They stopped 
and listened every little while, but echo alone answered 
their shouts. They went on and on, until the wood 
began to grow less dense, and Wolf thought that he 
could see in the distance the shimmer of the lake 
which they had observed the day before from the top 
of the tree. They hurried on, and soon discovered 
that they were not mistaken, for when they issued from 
the grove they found themselves on the brink of a 
large lake, the waters of which were coal-black and 
looked very gloomy. No ripple stirred its surface, 
and, although it was summer-time, it looked as though 
it were frozen. Even when the wind blew down a 
yellow leaf from the surrounding trees, it did not rest 
upon the water, but skimmed along its glassy surface, 
stopping only when it reached the land. 

The two boys seated themselves upon the shore, 
on a mossy stone, not knowing what to think of all 
this. Wolf, who had often listened at home to mys- 
terious tales, — told by the squires and men-at-arms, — 
of enchanted countries, water-witches, and fairies, 
suggested that they were in one of these enchanted 
places, — a supposition not particularly agreeable to 
either of them. They began to be afraid, and, al- 
though their surroundings looked pleasant enough, 
they gazed about them with suspicion and mistrust. 
The quiet that reigned around, the black water, 
even the beautiful dwelling in which they had slept, 
seemed strange and fearful to them now, for Wolf re- 
membered a story in which the ogre, who devoured 
17* 


19s 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


people, was accustomed to tempt little children within 
his domains by means of just such things, that he might 
make a meal of them afterwards. 

With these thoughts, the two boys sat there sadly 
enough and gazed into the water, which, although 
black, was tolerably transparent. They leaned over 
the stone and looked down for a long time, and Kuno, 
who held his tankard tight in his arms, was the first to 
discover something beneath the surface of the lake. 
He thought he could see walls and roofs, and even a 
stately castle, down there, far larger and more beautiful 
than his father’s. Then Wolf looked too, and thought 
he could see the same. And, as they both had good 
strong sight, they soon found that they had not been 
mistaken. There really was at the bottom of the lake 
a large and splendid castle, with lofty walls and towers, 
which they could see at last as distinctly as one sees 
objects through a thin mist. This discovery was not 
calculated, however, to allay their fears. On the con- 
trary, they saw clearly that they were actually in an 
enchanted valley, and they fully believed that the cot- 
tage in which they had slept was the home of the 
magician, who meant to entrap and devour them. 

Although these thoughts were not likely to attract 
them to the little house, yet it was with them as it often 
is with men, who, instead of avoiding and fleeing from 
some terrible object, are continually impelled by a 
shuddering kind of curiosity to approach it. They 
got up and went back along the brookside until they 
again saw the cottage where they had passed the night. 
They peered anxiously around, fearful of discovering 
some horror behind every tree and bush ; but no, they 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


199 


encountered nothing terrible. The cottage stood, just 
as peaceful as ever, before them, and within it all was 
unchanged. They entered, and searched every corner 
of their sleeping-room, to find some entrance to an- 
other apartment, for the smallness of their room did 
not accord with the size of the house as seen from 
without. But, although they tried their best to discover 
the crack of some concealed door in the beautiful, 
smooth walls, their trouble was of no avail, they could 
find nothing. After they had busied themselves for 
awhile in the garden weeding the beds and tying up 
the flower-stalks which the wind had blown down, the 
evening came on, and the two boys again betook them- 
selves to rest, with very anxious hearts, for they were 
afraid that the magician would appear in the night 
and put an end to their lives. But their fears were 
unfounded, — they slept quietly and soundly all night 
long in the silken beds, and were first awakened the 
next morning by the dazzling rays of the sun shining 
through the brilliant window-panes. 

They arose briskly, and their fears of finding them- 
selves in the power of a sorcerer began to diminish. 
In the absence of all other nourishment they applied 
themselves to their tankard, which did not fail them, 
but refreshed and satisfied them in the most wonderful 
manner. Then they went hand in hand to explore the 
valley again. This time they did not turn towards 
the black lake, but tried to ascend the mountains 
forming the wall around the valley. At first they 
thought they had discovered a path leading upwards, 
but when they had pursued it for a hundred paces 
it turned and led down again, and thus it was with 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


As* 

a second and a third path which they found. Then 
they tried to ascend by climbing through the trees 
and bushes, but here some gigantic, fallen tree would 
bar their way, and there they would find themselves right 
against a perpendicular mass of rock. Thus they laboured 
on for several hours, and at last were obliged to turn 
back, resolving, as they had not succeeded in this 
attempt, to find a way around the lake, that they might 
explore its other side. 

As well as they could see from the shore, where they 
, sat yesterday, this lake stretched far into the valley, 
but any extended view was made impossible by a 
thick growth of trees and bushes, through which the 
water was gleaming here and there. They turned 
towards the left side of the lake, hoping to find a path 
along its margin, but here they met with countless diffi- 
culties. The steep boundaries of the valley ascended 
sheer from the water’s edge, leaving only a hand’s- 
breadth of ground to walk upon, and then in places 
huge masses of rock overhung the lake itself, so that 
the boys soon found that they must give up all hope 
of continuing their explorations on this side. As it 
was beginning to grow dark again, they determined to 
try the other side the next day, and turned back to 
their cottage to pass the third night there. 

The evening was exquisitely fine, and the two boys, 
excited by the ill success of their voyages of discovery, 
found it impossible to go directly to bed when they 
reached home. The sun sank behind the mountains, 
and soon the moon arose on the other side of the 
heavens and peeped through the dark firs down into 
the valley, as though longing to discover whither the 


m 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


201 


sun, her faithless lover whom she pursues so constantly, 
had fled. In this never-ending pursuit the poor pale 
face of the moon blushed red, and her colour vanished 
only when she was high enough above the mountains 
to see that the sun was not hidden in the valley, and 
that all her pains to reach him were in vain. 

The two children sat down upon a grassy knoll be- 
hind the house, and thought of their homes and of their 
dear parents and friends now lost to them forever. 
They talked over all their last days at the castle, and 
, amused themselves with recalling to each other’s re- 
membrance every trifling incident that either could 
recollect. They described to each other the tumult 
and noise of the siege, and Kuno told his companion 
how great had been his terror when he first saw the red 
reflection of the flames upon his window-panes. Thus 
they sat, looking now through the valley shaded by 
thick trees from the moon’s rays, and now at the moon 
itself quietly ascending the dark concave of the night. 
Suddenly they seemed to hear sounding from the shores 
of the lake a low, tinkling echo, as though some one 
were passing his finger around the edge of a wine-glass, 
or as though small silver bells were chiming. As they 
had never before heard the slightest sound in the valley, 
they listened to this strange music with the keenest 
attention. It seemed to come nearer and nearer, and 
its tones grew louder and more distinct. But, although 
they both tried to see what could cause this music, 
they could discover nothing. At last Kuno motioned 
to his companion to be quiet, and pointed down into 
the valley before them, where something shining was 
issuing from beneath the trees that bordered the lake. 


202 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


[t was as if two shining, fiery threads were approaching 
slowly through the grass. Wolf looked, and was not a 
little terrified, for, as his eyes were sharper than his 
friend’s, he soon discovered two little snakes, glitter- 
ing and sparkling in the most extraordinary manner. 
As they moved on through the grass the music sounded 
which they had heard before, and which now seemed 
to be caused by the rustling of their serpent-forms along 
the ground. Soon these two strange creatures had 
entirely emerged from the trees, and the boys could 
see them more distinctly. They really were two snakes, 
but not nearly so frightful and ugly as such creatures 
usually are. They glided along easily and gracefully, 
now raising their heads as if to look about them, 
and now lowering them that they might slip through 
the grass, seeming to delight in the music which they 
made, — for, although there was no particular time kept 
in it, it accorded melodiously with every twist and turn 
of their bodies. 

Although the boys were very much afraid at first, 
they could not help being pleased with the two shining 
creatures. They watched with great interest their 
movements through the dark grass. Shortly they 
turned and approached the garden which surrounded 
the little house. They touched the coral fence, went 
through the little gate, and vanished within the cot- 
tage. This the boys had not expected, and they 
looked at each other with surprise, thinking that it 
was not right that the cold snakes should take posses- 
sion of the pretty little house. In the mean time it 
occurred to Wolf that perhaps the creatures had a 
be*:er right to the dwelling than they themselves had. 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


203 


and tie called to mind a story in which some swans 
had a little house in the middle of a pond, furnished 
with beds and everything comfortable, and where they 
slept at night. 

Filled with this idea, the boys became so curious 
that, in spite of their dread of some wicked magician 
who might work them harm, they got up and crept 
upon tiptoe as softly as possible towards the house, to 
see what the two snakes were doing there. After many 
fruitless attempts to find it, the coral gate opened as 
usual when Kuno touched it by chance with the copper 
tankard. They slipped through the garden and placed 
themselves where they could look in at one of the win- 
dows. They then saw the two snakes lift up their heads 
against the marble wall of the room, when a door sud- 
denly opened which led into another, far more splendid 
and magnificent than the first. Here the walls were of 
pure gold, and, as there were no windows to let in the 
light, a ruby as big as a man’s fist was suspended from the 
ceiling, shedding a deep purple but very brilliant light 
over the little room, by which they could see that the 
place was filled with all kinds of beautiful furniture. 
There were little tables and arm-chairs, and wash- 
basins and goblets, all made of metal, adorned with 
many beautifully-engraved figures. The idea occurred 
to Wolf that the tankard which Kuno was carrying 
matched the things in this room exceedingly well, 
for upon the table there was a vessel very much like 
it, only not so large and handsome. 

The snakes glided up on one of the tables, and then 
slipped into a wash-basin filled with a pink fluid, in 
which they bathed themselves for awhile. Then they 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


*04 

left the bowl and glided down to the floor again. As 
they raised themselves against each other, the serpent- 
skins fell from their bodies, and they were transformed 
into two beautiful young girls of from ten to twelve years 
old, who fell into each other’s arms, weeping loudly. 

The two boys beheld this transformation with the 
greatest astonishment. That there was magic in all this 
they saw clearly, but they were far more delighted than 
frightened. The two girls looked so amiable and lovely 
that they were not in the least afraid of them. They 
would have dearly liked to go to them and find out 
why they had been serpents only a few minutes before. 
Kuno was especially desirous to enter the room and 
speak to them, but Wolf held him back, reminding 
him that it was clearly their duty to go quietly away 
and leave the two princesses (for such they certainly 
were, judging from the little gold crowns that they 
had on) in undisturbed possession of the house, 
which belonged, of course, far more to them than to 
the two boys. At first Kuno could hardly tear him- 
self away from the window, so earnestly was he ob- 
serving the two princesses, who now left the small room 
and went into the one where the two beds were. 
There they sat down in an arm-chair, with their arms 
around each other’s waists, and talked very seriously 
together, while they shed many tears, but not one word 
of what they said could the boys understand. 

After they had sat thus for awhile, they embraced 
and kissed each other, and then each slipped into one 
of the beds in which the boys had slept the night be- 
fore. As just at this moment the moon, which had 
illumined the bedroom with its clear rays, sa** 4 ' behind 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


205 


the mountains, the little house grew very dark, and the 
boys could see nothing more. In great amazement at 
the occurrences of the evening, they left the garden, 
that they might not disturb the little mistresses of the 
house, and lay down at the edge of the thicket, re- 
solving firmly to awake at daybreak and see what would 
become of the two snakes, or rather of the two prin- 
cesses. But they slept very soundly. Whether because 
they had walked about a great deal, or because the 
guardian angel who watches over orphan children had 
not thought it best that they should carry out their 
intention, and so made their eyelids heavy, we can- 
not say ; — when they awoke the sun was high in the 
heavens, and, upon hurrying to the house, they found 
it just as empty as on the first day that they had 
entered it. 

They examined everything most carefully, the beds, 
the chairs, the drawers of the table, but after the most 
diligent search they could find no trace of the prin- 
cesses nor of the door leading to the next room. 

They wandered sadly about, both repenting their 
modesty on the preceding evening, and wishing that 
they had knocked at the window and represented them- 
selves as two poor boys who had gone astray in this 
place, which they had never seen before. But as they 
hoped to see the two beautiful snakes again some future 
evening, they determined to wait patiently, and, as 
what was done could not be undone, they began anew 
their exploration of the valley. They went to the lake 
and attempted to walk along its margin towards the 
Jeft. They succeeded much better than when, the day 
before, they had pursued the other direction. They 
18 


20 6 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


found a convenient pathway, and followed it until 
they reached the farthest spot which had been visible 
from the head of the lake, and there, as they had sus- 
pected, the water became hidden among the trees. 
The lake grew much narrower, and formed here a 
long angle, around which the boys could not get, for 
the path suddenly ceased at the foot of a steep mass 
of rock which they were unable to climb, and which 
prevented their advancing one step. 

After making several vain attempts to scramble up 
this rocky wall, while they were looking anxiously 
about them, Wolf discovered a little flight of stairs 
leading directly down to the lake, and at its foot a 
skiff lay moored. Much as the boys desired to enter 
the boat, that they might pursue their explorations 
with its aid, dread of the black water at first deterred 
them from such an undertaking. Kuno, especially, 
deprecated such a step, for the castle at the bottom of 
the lake seemed to him more fearful and strange than 
the colour of the water. 

“Only suppose, dear Wolf,” said he, “that we were 
to sail upon this black water, and that one of the castle 
gates down there should open, and that a horseman 
should ascend, and ask us who we were, and what we 
wanted. Or suppose the skiff should suddenly sink, 
and we should fall down there among all those people 
who are perhaps within the castle, enchanted forever.” 

At first Wolf gave heed to these warnings, but, as he 
had set his heart upon reaching the other shore of the 
lake and seeing if there were not some human beings 
there, he gradually converted his friend to his pro- 
posal and persuaded him to take a sail upon the 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


207 


water. Thus, after much discussion, they descended 
the steps and seated themselves in the boat, but they 
attempted for a long time in vain to loosen the chain by 
which it was fastened with a padlock to the steps. At 
last Kuno, who sat in the stern of the little skiff, in 
making a fresh attempt to unfasten the lock, touched 
the chain with the tankard, which he was carrying, and 
instantly the chain parted and left the boat free upon 
the water. Now, Wolf had often seen the servants at 
home, when they wished to glide close by the shore of 
the pond, without oars, that they might draw in the 
nets that had been set for fish, help their boat through 
the water by seizing the bushes and boughs of the trees 
that grew overhead, and pulling themselves along. 
When the chain parted, he tried to imitate them, but 
in making the attempt he almost fell into the water, 
for no sooner was the boat set free than it turned away 
from the shore, and, without sail or oar, suddenly shot 
out into the middle of the lake. In vain did they try to 
stop it by calling to it to stand still, as one would to 
an unruly steed, shouting, in their fright, with all their 
strength. Wolf, in especial, when he felt himself thus 
borne away, first entreated the boat most politely, 
and then ordered it in the harshest terms, to turn 
around instantly or to stop. In vain; they darted 
rapidly onwards. They soon passed the place where 
the lake grew narrower, and, sailing around the rocky 
wall which had impeded their progress on the shore, 
they saw before them the rest of the lake, which was as 
large and broad as the other half behind them. 

Although the skiff moved forwards so swiftly upon 
the water, it did not cleave the waves with its prow, 


THE FAIRY TAX /CARD. 


«o8 

but seemed to glide over the surface as though upon 
ice. And there was no noise of water plashing against 
the sides of the boat, or murmuring gently. All was 
silent and still. At first the boys feared that when they 
reached the middle of the lake its shores would retreat, 
leaving them upon a boundless, lonely sea. But it was 
not so, — the shores kept their places, and the boys dis- 
covered that they were steering towards an island which 
seemed to lie near the other end of the black pond. 
This island could not be very large, and yet the trees 
and bushes upon its banks appeared to be impenetrable. 
Trees upon trees, with their thick foliage, formed a 
green wall, and between their trunks grew low under- 
brush, weaving them together. The children soon saw 
that there was a little flight of steps here too, leading 
down to the water, and thither the boat directed its 
course. It soon reached the shore, and, pushing 
through the boughs and bushes that grew over the 
water, touched the steps, alongside of which it lay per 
fectly motionless. 

Wolf, who was the first to recover from his astonish- 
ment and terror, sprang upon the shore and helped 
out his comrade, who, now that the adventure seemed 
likely to end without danger of any kind, enjoyed 
it mightily, and laughed at their involuntary sail. 
They held a consultation as to what was to be done, 
and Kuno thought that the best thing would be to 
speak very politely and encouragingly to the little 
vessel, that it might turn round and carry them back 
whence they came, as there could not be anything very 
remarkable upon this island. Wolf, on the contrary, 
was of opinion that they should penetrate to its in* 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


209 


terior. He could not suppose it likely that the skiff 
had brought them so far against their will without 
some good purpose. He induced his friend to walk 
along the shore, in hopes of finding some opening 
through the bushes. They passed around the island 
several times, examining the wall of foliage very mi- 
nutely, to find some little hole through which they 
might slip, but none could be found. Some magic must 
have been at work, for it certainly seemed as though 
the trees interwove themselves more thickly when 
either of the two children tried to creep through. 

While engaged in this search, it became noonday. 
The sun was high in the heavens, and the boys sat 
down on the shore of the island to rest after their 
exertions. They were very hungry and thirsty. As 
there was no brook near to supply their need, Wolf 
proposed that they should for once try the water of 
the lake. He filled the tankard and took a good drink, 
and, when he found that the water was cool and pleas- 
ant, he handed it to Kuno, who, however, could not 
bring himself to put it to his lips. When he thought 
of the castle at the bottom of the lake, in which, per- 
haps, men were lying spell-bound at that very minute, 
he declared that he would rather die of hunger than taste 
such water. So he took the tankard and threw its con- 
tents out among the bushes. But how shall we describe 
his astonishment, when he saw that wherever the water 
touched the boughs and foliage, they opened, leaving a 
free passage between them ! The boys sprang up, and, 
after convincing themselves that this wonder had really 
taken place, Wolf boldly entered the path thus formed, 
and Kuno followed him. 

18* 


o 


210 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


They went on for a few steps among the trees, which 
grew here very irregularly. But they soon found before 
them a pathway, on either side of which were groups of 
plants and bushes, whose arrangement showed clearly 
that they owed their position there to art. They fob 
lowed this path, which led to the interior of the island, 
and soon, leaving the thick underbrush behind them, 
came out upon a grassy plain, at sight of which they 
both gave a cry of wonder, and stood as if rooted to 
the spot. There in the midst of this plain was a 
large table, at which sat twenty or thirty men, who, 
although they seemed to be in the midst of conversa- 
tion and laughter, were all stiff and motionless. At 
first the boys thought that their sudden appearance had 
startled the company and held them motionless for a 
few seconds. Kuno turned to run, but Wolf held him 
back, and continued to stare at this strange sight with 
wide-open eyes. Nothing stirred, and the figures sat 
there as if hewn out of stone. Wolf, whose courage 
soon returned, first made a slight noise, then coughed, 
and cleared his throat loudly, and, finding that the 
men paid no attention, he shouted aloud, “Halloo! 
halloo!” and Kuno joined in lustily. But nothing 
stirred. 

When the boys found, to their joy, that all their ex- 
ertions to arouse the motionless assembly were in vain, 
they stepped up cautiously to the table, to examine 
the strange company more closely. It seemed as 
though some assemblage of brave knights had been 
overtaken by an evil spell in the midst of a banquet, 
and turned to stone. At the head of the table, upon 
which stood bowls, goblets, and beakers of mighty di* 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


21 1 


mensions, sat a stately old man in magnificent armour, 
with a crown upon his head, and behind him stood two 
pages, to one of whom he seemed to be giving some 
command, while the other was handing him a goblet 
of wine. There was an expression so serious, and at 
the same time so kindly, in the old man’s face, that it 
must have inspired every one with confidence, and the 
two boys were sorry indeed that he was just as stiff and 
stony as the rest, and could give them no gentle answer 
or look. The knights who sat upon his right and left 
hand seemed to be absorbed in earnest conversation. 
Some had just seized a goblet with one hand, while 
they leaned with the other upon the table or the hilts 
of their swords, gazing earnestly, meanwhile, into each 
other’s faces; and these faces, although they were 
cold and stiff, wore such meaning expressions that one 
could easily tell which had been speaking and which 
listening. 

There sat two, with their arms upon each other’s 
shoulders, gazing into the air. The expression upon 
their faces was one of uncommon joviality, and one 
could readily believe, seeing their laughing, half-opened 
mouths, that a jolly drinking-song was just coming 
from their lips. The two boys passed, wondering, 
around the table, and as they came behind the old man 
with the crown they noticed that on either side of him 
were two carved chairs, which were, however, empty. 
Kuno, who was not so stout-hearted as Wolf, was still 
a little afraid to go quite close to the company, and 
was continually retreating to the bushes that bordered 
the plain. But suddenly he started back with a loud 
cry, for he discovered, under the trees, a large dog 


212 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


sitting, while two horses, held by their bridles by a 
squire, were looking down at him. Wolf hastened 
towards them, and soon found that these horses and 
many more under the trees, with dogs and squires, 
were as stiff and stony as their masters. 

In the closer examination of everything, which even 
Kuno was at last emboldened to make, they noticed at 
the foot of the table a couple of forms that especially 
attracted their attention. These were two rather elderly 
men, one of whom was looking searchingly towards the 
lake, with an expression of horror upon his earnest 
features. One hand he held to his ear as though more 
clearly to distinguish some sound, and with the other 
he touched the shoulder of the man next to him to 
excite his attention. The latter, however, did not 
heed him, but sat leaning back in his chair, emptying, 
apparently with much satisfaction, a huge can which he 
held to his lips. 

Wolf and Kuno looked long at these two figures, and 
exhausted themselves in guessing what could so have 
excited the attention of one of these old lords. Kuno 
looked over his shoulder in the same direction in 
which the old lord was gazing, hoping to see some- 
thing that might have attracted his gaze. But he could 
see nothing except the black mirror of the lake. In 
the mean time Wolf was observing the other lord 
closely, and lamenting that he should have been dis- 
turbed just in the midst of his drinking. He made 
many ridiculous speeches about him, and maintained 
that he must have been the thirstiest of the party. 

And now the fear which had at first overpowered the 
boys vanished entirely, and, as they could not deter- 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


213 


mine whether these figures had been chiselled out of 
stone by some great sculptor, or changed thus by magic 
art, they troubled themselves no longer about it, but 
were entertained for awhile with an examination of the 
strange weapons, drinking-cups, dresses, and, at last, 
even the horses and dogs. Wolf grew very courageous, 
and mounted upon a war-horse, and, when Kuno saw 
how brave and grand he looked, he mounted another, 
and they both shouted for joy. After they had urged 
their horses to step out, by shouting and spurring them 
with their heels (great would have been their terror 
had they budged an inch), they got down, and went 
on with their examination. They seated themselves in 
the two empty chairs at the head of the table, but 
soon left them, for the face of the old man with the 
crown looked down upon them with too reverend an air 
for any levity on their part. Then they wandered again 
around the table, and Wolf, standing before the lord 
who was drinking, laughingly proposed that they should 
pour some water into his goblet, that he might quench 
his thirst. Kuno thought this a most excellent idea, 
and, running down to the lake with his tankard, filled 
it with water. Then Wolf took it, and, standing upon 
tiptoe, poured it into the goblet, so that, in the position 
in which the knight held his can, the water touched 
his lips. In delight at the success of their attempt, the 
boys laughed loudly. But suddenly Wolf’s merriment 
ceased, and he stared wildly at the knight’s coun- 
tenance, and the laughter died away upon Kuno’s lips, 
and, with a loud shriek, he threw himself into Wolf’s 
arms. 

Who shall describe their fright when they saw the 


214 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


lips in the cold stone face open and greedily drink the 
water which Wolf had poured into the goblet, while 
the eyes, before so lifeless, grew bright and beaming 
and animated by a strange expression ! As the water 
flowed down his throat, the breast of the stone figure 
began to heave, and life trembled in every limb of the 
body. The old knight drew a couple of deep sighs, 
with a sobbing sound, and placed the goblet slowly 
upon the table. Then he turned his head and looked 
with astonishment at his neighbour, whose cold hand 
of stone, resting upon his shoulder, he felt and pressed, 
with every sign of wonder. 

The two boys, in their amazement, dropped upon 
their knees, and looked up into the knight’s coun- 
tenance with pale faces and clasped hands, which, with 
the dumb movement of their lips, implored forgiveness 
for their insolent act, although fear deprived them of 
utterance. The newly-revived knight, after he had 
looked round upon the whole company with the same 
wonder with which he had regarded his next neighbour, 
noticed the two kneeling children, and started up from 
his chair, with a loud cry of wonder. Wolf, who now 
saw that they had really done no very great harm in 
converting a block of stone into a fine, living man, 
collected himself, and told the knight, in a few words, 
who they were, and what they had been doing, up to 
the moment when they had quite accidentally recalled 
aim to life. The knight stared at them with as- 
tonishment, and listened to their story with the same 
wonder with which he inspired them. When they 
mentioned the tankard, he approached them, and when 
Kuno showed it and handed it to him, the old knight 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


«5 


uttered a loud exclamation of delight, and, snatching 
first the boys and then the tankard to his breast, he 
cried out, while the tears ran down his gray beard, 
“Now all our woes will end!” 

Unwilling as Kuno was to part with his tankard, he 
gave it at once to the knight, who hung it upon his arm, 
and, as the evening was drawing on, told the boys to 
follow him. They all three went down to the place on 
the shore of the island where the boat was lying, 
descended the steps and seated themselves in the skiff, 
which instantly turned around and, without the help of 
rudder or sail, glided quickly in the direction whence 
the boys had come in the morning. They soon reached 
the other shore, got out, and led the knight to the spot 
where they could plainly see the castle beneath the 
waters of the lake. There they sat down, and the old 
knight looked into the water for a long time, and beck- 
oned joyfully down into the depths. “Yes,” cried he, 
aloud, “you poor wretches below there will soon be 
released, — the old castle will ascend from this black 
water and reign over the valley around, as of old.” 
Wolf and Kuno, who listened attentively to the 
knight’s words, were very curious to know what con- 
nection he had with the castle below, and Wolf took 
courage, and asked him. 

The knight looked thoughtfully into the lake for 
awhile longer, as though he were searching for some- 
thing there, and then, turning to the boys, told them 
the history of the castle, in the following words: 

“The valley, in which we are, belonged, some time 
ago, to King Dagobert, whom you saw sitting at the 
table upon the island yonder, with his crown upon his 


2l6 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


head. He lived contented and happy in his castle, 
which was not then, as now, at the bottom of this lake, 
but was beautifully situated in this valley, among the 
surrounding mountains, in the midst of beautiful gar- 
dens and fruitful fields. The king was contented and 
happy indeed, for he possessed everything to make life 
pleasant. Unfortunately, his wife died, but before her 
death she bore him two daughters, by whose cradles 
there luckily stood two of those powerful beings called 
Fairies. They took the place of a mother to the little 
princesses, and nurtured them so carefully that they 
grew up, the perfection of health and rare beauty. In- 
stead of the gold, silver, and jewels with which, as 
godmothers, they might have presented them, they en- 
dowed one of the fountains in the court-yard of the 
castle with wonderful virtue, and made its waters so 
efficacious that it cured all sickness of every descrip- 
tion, and even defied the power of old age, for, although 
the bloom of youth did not return to the aged who 
quaffed it, they were enabled to live in perfect health 
for many years longer. They also bestowed upon their 
favourites a copper tankard — the same which I have 
just obtained again through your assistance — to hold 
this healing water. When the two princesses were 
tolerably well grown, these powerful protectors were 
obliged, at their queen’s command, to leave the valley, 
and did not conceal from the king that the care and 
attention which they had bestowed upon his daughters 
had attracted the notice of a mighty but evil spirit, 
who made it his business to interfere with and frustrate 
all their good intentions, and who would not fail to 
work any ill that he could in this case. As everything 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


217 


under ground was subject to his will, the water which 
flows out of the earth was within his dominion, even 
the water of the healing fountain. In order to make 
of no avail this power, which worked mischief where- 
ever it could, the fairies begged the king to hold the 
unpretending copper tankard in high honour, and 
never to allow water to be brought from the fountain 
in any other vessel, for thus only could the power of 
the subterranean spirit be restrained and be hindered 
from poisoning the water with evil properties, or caus- 
ing it to overflow so as to overwhelm all that the 
valley contained. 

“ The king promised faithfully to follow their direc- 
tions, and the fairies departed, calling down all manner 
of blessings upon the heads of their young charges. 
Then the king had the fountain surrounded in the cost- 
liest manner by carved marble, and roofed in with 
rosewood, and this gorgeous building had only one 
little door, for which the king had a most cunning 
lock contrived, the key of which he carried in his 
own girdle, never allowing any one else to have it for 
a moment. As he was not in the least selfish, and 
never grudged to any one the use of the healing 
water, at certain hours old and young, rich and poor, 
assembled in the court-yard of the castle, and King 
Dagobert himself unlocked the fountain and took good 
care that no other vessel except the copper tankard was 
used to draw the water. In a short time the water had 
done so much good that it excited, of course, the envy 
of the evil spirit, who had tried in many ways to steal 
the tankard, or to ruin the lock with which the king 
guarded his treasure. Several times the monarch found, 

19 


2 18 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


in the place where the tankard was kept, two tankards 
so precisely alike that he would have had great diffi- 
culty in distinguishing the real from the false one, if 
the fairies had not inspired the two princesses with a 
never-failing power of detecting at a glance what was 
false and wrong. And sometimes ambassadors or even 
princes came from strange courts to taste of the won- 
derful water of which they had heard so much, and 
would entreat King Dagobert to allow them to draw it 
in their own vessels. But the king remembered well 
the caution which the fairies had given him, and knew 
that the evil spirit would use every means in his power 
to turn the gift to harm.’* 

At these words the knight stopped speaking for a 
moment, looked, sighing, down into the black lake, 
and then continued, “But ah! careful and determined 
as the king was to guard his precious possession, he was 
overreached at last. There came a day when King 
Dagobert commanded the noonday tables to be spread 
upon that island where you found me, which was then 
only a lovely green hillock, rising gently from the 
valley. It was a glorious day, and, after the king, the 
two princesses, and we — his train — had taken a ride 
over the neighbouring mountains, we dismounted upon 
that hill, where the tables stood ready. The squires, 
with the horses and dogs, withdrew into the bushes, 
and we seated ourselves at table amid heaping dainties 
and flowing wine-cups. At the head sat the king, with 
the two princesses on either side of him, while behind 
his chair were several foot-pages to fulfil his commands. 
The tankard, which he took with him upon all hi? 
pleasure-excursions, stood upon the table before him. 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


219 


“ Thus we sat, and the air was so pure and bracing, 
the day wits so beautiful, that care and sad thoughts 
vanished from every breast, and all were cheerful and 
merry. Then I noticed that a ragged beggar, who had 
walked around the hill several times, ascended the 
elevation and approached King Dagobert. When he 
reached the table, he dropped upon his knees and en- 
treated the king in the most humble and moving man- 
ner to give him a draught of the wondrous water. The 
king, unwilling to rise from the table, requested him to 
come to the castle at the end of an hour. But the 
beggar insisted that it was only at this moment that the 
water could do him any good, as his pains were just 
now more severe than ever. When the princesses saw 
that the king was loth to leave his wine-cup, they turned 
to him and begged him to trust them with the tankard 
and the key, and they would go alone with the beggar 
down to the castle, and get him a drink of the water. 
The two young maidens were weary of sitting still, and 
begged their father so earnestly that at last he gave 
them the tankard and the key. He warned them to be 
very cautious, and they ran down the hill towards the 
castle. The beggar followed. Not one suspicious 
thought occurred to any one of us sitting around. The 
castle was quite near, and we could follow the princesses 
with our eyes. They went to the fountain, opened the 
door, drew the water in the tankard, and then seemed 
to ask the beggar whether he had no vessel in which 
to receive his draught. He shook his head, and, as just 
at this moment I put my goblet to my lips, I cannot 
tell whether the two princesses put it themselves to 
his mouth, or whether he snatched it from them. I 


220 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


only saw him waving the tankard in the air with a 
shout of triumph, and, as he instantly sank into the 
ground, we knew that the evil spirit had overreached 
us. I tried to rise from my seat, but I could not. I 
could not even take the goblet from my mouth, but 
felt as though it had grown fast to my lips. I wondered 
that some of the other knights did not spring up and 
rush to the assistance of the two princesses, who were 
vainly trying to close the door of the fountain against 
the flood of water that was welling from it. But all 
who were sitting at the table seemed to be spell- 
bound like myself. No sound escaped their lips, and 
even the barking of the dogs, who had been playing in 
the thicket, ceased with a troubled whine, and every- 
thing around us was still. A thick mist arose before 
my eyes, but, although I could see the fountain and the 
court-yard only indistinctly through it, I could perceive 
fresh and mighty floods of water were bursting forth. 
The princesses screamed for help, but no one went to 
their aid. Already the water had flooded the whole 
court-yard, and was slowly ascending the walls and 
turrets. Soon nothing more was to be seen of the un- 
happy princesses. The water was half-way up the great 
tower, — then it reached the roof, and then only the 
peak was visible. The next moment this vanished also, 
and only an ever-widening circle on the surface of the 
water still showed for a few moments where a stately 
castle had once stood. 

“And we, meanwhile, were paralyzed not only with 
fear, but by the magic of the enchanter. Not only 
could we stir no limb for the moment, but the blood in 
our veins seemed to turn to stone, — the life within us 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


221 


grew cold. Each one remained in the same position, 
and even with the same expression in his face and 
figure, as at the fatal moment when the sorcerer waved 
the tankard triumphantly in the air. Our eyes grew 
dim, and all was night before us. And thus we sat, day 
after day, night after night, for weeks and months, 
until hundreds of years have passed away.” 

This was the knight’s story, to which the boys eagerly 
listened. Darkness had now set in, and they took 
their friend to the little house, and told him about the 
two snakes who had the evening before been turned 
into two lovely young girls. Wolf spoke of the crowns 
that they wore, and the knight soon recognized from 
his description the two young princesses, and saw that 
they must still be under the protection of the good 
fairies, who had probably placed this little cottage here, 
where the two sisters could pass every third night 
together in their natural shapes. 

The two boys lay down upon the silken beds, and 
their companion upon the floor, and thus all three 
slept until the golden morning dawned. Then they 
awoke joyfully, and the knight began to consider 
earnestly how he could bring about the disenchantment 
of the castle. Although the day before, this had 
seemed an easy task, upon a closer view the matter 
presented many difficulties. He was in possession of 
the magic vessel that could restrain the power of the 
evil spirit, but he could not find out how he was to 
make use of it He knew of no magic word or spell 
whereby he could bind and rule the black water. 
The good knight was, in truth, in no small perplexity 
He went to the shore of the lake with the two boys, 
19* 


222 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


and was about to sail over to the island and attempt to 
revive all who were sitting around the table, when sud- 
denly it occurred to the brave and faithful courtier, 
how much better it would be if, when his master should 
recover his consciousness, he could see his castle and 
valley as lovely as ever before him, freed from all evil 
spells ! And, although the knight knew of no magic 
word to effect all this, it was his duty, he thought, to 
venture all for his lord and master, be the end what it 
might. Occupied with these thoughts, the knight 
seated himself with the two boys in the little boat, 
which immediately began its voyage across the lake. 
When they had reached the middle of the black water, 
the knight suddenly arose, and said, “My dear chil- 
dren, sit still, and let me make one attempt, whether it 
succeeds or not, to deliver this valley from the spell 
now resting upon it. I will try, with the help of this 
tankard, to close and lock the door of the fountain, 
that the water may no longer gush forth.” 

The boys hardly understood what these words meant, 
but uttered a loud scream of terror when they saw 
their friend spring into the black lake and immediately 
vanish. Kuno clasped his hands despairingly, more in 
sorrow for his tankard than for the knight, and Wolf 
could not help suspecting that this might be another 
bad spirit, who had thus robbed them , of their treasure. 
But, whilst they sat there and Kuno wept aloud, they 
heard beneath them the noise as of a door shutting 
violently, and a few moments afterwards the astonished 
boys noticed a remarkable change in the lake around 
them. It began to be troubled and to foam up, and 
then they perceived that the waters were diminishing. 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


223 


Black clouds overspread the heavens, and these clouds 
lowered over the lake, and seemed to drink up the 
water from it. Each moment these clouds grew darker 
with the black water that they absorbed, and, when 
they were quite full, they moved away above the 
mountain-tops and gave place to other thirsty clouds. 
Thus the water in the lake sank more and more 
rapidly. Soon, right by the rocking skiff, the spire of 
a tower appeared above the water, and then the whole 
roof of the tower followed. Upon this spire, and under 
the overhanging roof, the boys noticed, with surprise, 
crows, swallows, and other birds, who were sleeping, 
apparently, with their heads under their wings. But 
no sooner were they above water than they all woke up. 
The ravens and crows flew high into the air to see what 
was the matter, and the swallows skimmed above the 
water to procure gnats and other insects for food, as 
they had been a long time without any. Soon other 
walls appeared on each side of the boys, — smaller 
towers, with buttresses, behind which stood men-at- 
arms leaning on their spears and seeming to be asleep. 
But no sooner did the fresh air play around them in 
place of the stagnant black water of the lake, than they 
stretched and stamped, and, yawning loudly, gazed 
inquiringly about them. 

And now the roof of the castle itself appeared above 
the surface of the lake, and, if the boys had been sur- 
prised at the awakening of the birds and the squires 
upon the towers, their admiration and wonder reached 
the highest pitch when they saw how men and animals 
swarmed about every story as the waters sank. Here, 


224 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


a couple of stable-boys were seen measuring out prov- 
ender in the granary, while below maids were opening 
all the windows and doors to let fresh air into the 
king’s apartments. But in the kitchen the bustle was 
the greatest and most manifold, for just when the spell 
was laid upon them, three hundred years before, the 
head-cook had been preparing the dessert for the 
king’s table, and was disturbed in the midst of this 
weighty affair. The scullions were running about, 
arranging dishes full of pastry, confectionery, rare 
fruits, and other costly refreshments, while other at- 
tendants in gold-bordered doublets took these dishes 
to carry them up the hill. 

The skiff, with the boys, sank deeper and deeper, till 
the castle stood before them just as grand and stately as 
the knight had described it, and they found themselves 
at last floating upon what was only a little pond. The 
skiff was near the shore, and the boys sprang out 
into the lovely garden. They ran around the castle 
quickly to find the old knight, and, when they entered 
the court-yard, saw him standing by the fountain, on 
the brink of which was the tankard. But the two 
princesses whom they had seen in the little house were 
in his arms, and all three were weeping for joy. The 
boys, too shy to approach them, paused a few steps 
off, and were so moved with all that they had seen 
that the tears were rolling down their cheeks also. 
Suddenly a great uproar arose upon the hill, which a 
little while before had been an island above the surface 
of the black lake. Hunting-horns sounded, horses 
neighed, and dogs bayed. All there awoke to life, and 


THE FAIRY TANKARD . 


225 


King Dagobert arose at the head of his table and 
called loudly to his children. In the castle court-yard 
they all dismounted from their horses, and there was 
no end to the delight and joy. Then the old knight 
told how it was the two boys who had delivered the 
valley from the spell under which it had lain, and pre- 
sented them to the king, who inquired about their 
previous history, and, as the famous race of Schrecken- 
berg was well known to him, he received with favour 
the last scion of that race, and Wolf, too, whose riper 
years and courage had assisted not a little in the deliv- 
erance of the spell-bound valley. 

And the old joyous life began again in the king’s 
castle, disturbed by no more evil spirits. When Kuno 
and Wolf, after a few years, had been instructed in 
all knightly exercises, and had wandered through the 
land, killing giants and defending innocent women and 
children, they came one day to the site of the castle 
of Schreckenberg, and there in a miserable hovel they 
found an old man who had fought and fallen, but not 
died, with Fritz of Schreckenberg. As he knew of 
the immense buried treasure, he had carefully preserved 
it, and now handed it over to the heir, who took it 
with him to the court of King Dagobert. In the 
course of time the noble knights Kuno and Wolf (for 
the latter received knighthood from King Dagobert 
himself) won the love of the two princesses, so that 
their royal father could not refuse his consent to this 
double marriage. 

The old man told how his master, Fritz of Schreck- 
enberg, had brought home the tankard from one of 

p 


226 


THE FAIRY TANKARD. 


his marauding excursions. But, as it presented so 
mean an appearance, it was thrown aside in the lum- 
ber-room and forgotten. 

King Dagobert recognized, in the dream which had 
made such an impression upon the dying countess, the 
influence of the beneficent fairy, who had ordered all 
events for good, 


Fate at the Door. 

A NOVEL. 

By Jessie Van Zile Belden. 


l2mo. Paper, 50 cents; crushed buckram, ornamental, $1.00. 


“ The story is decidedly clever, and the semi-flirtatious relations of society 
men and women are admirably, wittily described.” — Boston Literary World. 

“ This is a story of more than a little originality, a thoughtful and well-told 
story.” — Boston Courier. 

“An admirably written story, instinct with ethical suggestion.” — Philadelphia 
Press. 

" There is a true womanliness about this story of the social world that leaves a 
delightful impression upon the reader.” — Boston Herald. 

“ Each page is turned with regret, since it brings one nearer to the end of the 
charming book.” — Amusement Gazette, Cleveland, Ohio. 

“It is one of those novels one is glad to have read, one which is remembered 
for a long time, and one which thoroughly awakens the emotions.” — New York 
World. 

“ This is a strong, pathetic, eloquent little story, and one which will be remem- 
bered by its readers long after many more pretentious novels have passed to the 
limbo of things forgotten. ‘ Fate at the Door' is not a book to be allowed to go 
unread.” — News, Charleston, S. C. 

“ To make its treatment perfectly effective, a story treating with the problem 
of platonic love requires high literary skill and great delicacy, and these Mrs. 
Belden has displayed to a remarkable height of genius. This novel alone entitles 
her to rank among the finest and most interesting writers of the day.” — Boston 
Home Journal. 

“ A very interesting story, in which the movement is quick and effective and 
the characters are well handled. It is a story of misplaced affection which could 
be placed elsewhere without difficulty or risk of repulsion if it were not restrained 
by strong moral convictions.” — Buffalo Commercial. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA 


The True George Washington. 

BY 

PAUL LEICESTER FORD, 

Author of 

“ The Honorable Peter Stirling,” etc. 


With twenty-four full-page illustrations. Crown 8vo. Cloth, deckle 
edges, $ 2 . 00 ; three-quarters levant, $5.00. 


" This book is a monument of industry.” — New York Nation. 

“ This is a wonderfully interesting book.” — Buffalo Commercial. 

" Mr. Ford’s book is rich in new matter which commends itself as interesting 
as well as valuable.” — Washington Times. 

“ Mr. Ford has delved with diligence and with rich reward into contemporary 
records, correspondence, and traditions, and gives an entertaining account of colo- 
nial times and of the personal traits of the Father of His Country.” — Chicago 
Advance. 

“ Mr. Ford’s book is important out of all proportion to its size, and will 
probably be read so long as the name of Washington continues to be revered. 
Brushing aside the hysterical panegyrics of would-be biographers and historians 
as well as super-laudatory passages in works otherwise trustworthy and meritorious, 
Mr. Ford resolutely set out to acquire real knowledge of the man, George Wash- 
ington. Few of the other heroes of history could pass unscathed through an 
examination so thorough and so rigid. Every attainable fact that helps to show 
the Father of His Country as he was in his social and family relations has been 
carefully considered.” — Boston Evening Gazette. 

“ This work challenges attention for the really valuable light which it throws 
upon the character of George Washington. The picture which Mr. Ford here 
draws of him is careful, life-like, and impressive in the extreme. While his ex- 
haustive researches have resulted in humanizing Washington ‘ and making him 
a man rather than a historical figure,’ a fair and intelligent reader, we submit, 
will arise from the glowing chapters of Mr. Ford’s work with a larger conception 
of the character, endowments, and equipment of the first of Americans. . . . 
The work embodies a surprising measure of information on a most important as 
well as interesting subject.” — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA 


A Comic History of 

the United States 

By BILL NYE. 

With one hundred and fifty illustrations by 
F. OPPER. 



CLUB LIFE IN EARLY NEW YORK. 


" The author's satire is keen, his humor unceasing ; but he never has forgotten 
the requirements of good taste. The book will induce many a smile and not a few 
uproarious laughs.” — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 

44 Those who admire the fnnniments of Bill Nye will enjoy many a hearty 
laugh at his quaint and curious way of presenting historical facts.” — Boston Satur- 
day Evening Gazette. 

44 One cannot forbear a smile over these truly comic sketches.” — Public 
Ledger, Philadelphia. 

“ Everybody with any sense of humor in their souls will be entertained — and 
instructed, too — by its perusal.” — Boston Home Journal. 

44 The greatest enjoyment will be derived from it.” — Chicago Journal. 

44 The book is bound to be a great success.” — New York School Journal. 

44 The best thing Bill Nye has ever done. There is real worth in it.” — Philo* 
delphia To-Day. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA 


BILL NYE’S POSTHUMOUS WORK 


A Comic History of England. 

From the Druids to the Reign of Henry VIII. 

By BILL- NYE. 

Profusely illustrated by W. M. Goodes and A. M. Richards. 
Crown 8vo. Cloth, $1.25. 

“ It is Nye’s masterpiece," 
St. Louis Post-Dispatch. 

“ It is written in the au- 
thor’s best vein.” — Pittsburg 
Chronicle Telegraph. 

“ The fun of the book is 
good and well sustained, and 
the illustrations are amusing." 
— Boston Congregationalist. 

“ There is a vast amount of 
fun to be found between the 
covers of this book. Many a 
hearty laugh will end in a sigh 
of regret that the time is past 
when any new work from Mr. 
Nye’s pen will move the world 
to laughter. How surely does 
he find the weak spot and dance upon it to the delectation of his crowd of ad- 
mirers I How absolutely absurd he makes those ancient monarchs and their 
reigns ! What fun history Is viewed across the pages of this humorist’s book 1 
His satire is so keen, so amusing! W. M. Goodes and A. M. Richards have 
added greatly to the humor of the book by their illustrations. Twenty pages of 
these complete the work left unfinished by the illness and death of the author.” — 
Cleveland Critic. 

“ This comic History of England was evidently written in the author's best 
vein of humor, as well as with the strong attempt of making a funny history an 
instructive one ; for, throughout, he follows and adheres to dates and events with an 
historian’s accuracy. The illustrations are no small portion of its attractiveness, 
adding greatly to an appreciation of the text, as they certainly do .” — Boston 
Courier. 



J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA. 


BY JULIA HELEN TWELLS, JR. 

A Triumph of Destiny. 

i2mo. Cloth, deckle edges, $1.25. 

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— Philadelphia Press. 

“ Miss Twells is evidently a woman of extensive mental resources, who thinks 
deeply and clearly. Her story commands admiration and consequent attention 
from the first. There are not many characters, but about the few are clustered 
events of significance, and their relation to each other and to their own individual 
development is analyzed with strength and clearness .” — Washington Times. 


BY MRS. OLIPHANT. 

The Unjust Steward. 

i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

“ We have an admirable study of an old Scotch minister oppressed by the con- 
sciousness of a very venial fault in a small financial transaction. The tone is one 
of cheerful humor, the incidents are skilfully devised, verisimilitude is never sacri- 
ficed to effect, every episode is true to life .” — Philadelphia Press. 


BY ARTHUR PATERSON. 

For Freedom’s Sake. 

i2mo. Cloth, #1.25. 

•* The subject-matter of this book is the desperate battle between freedom and 
slavery for possession of Kansas. One of the strongest characters introduced is 
old John Brown. A charming love story is naturally incidental, and the element 
of humor is by no means lacking .” — New York World. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA. 


By Florence Belknap Gilmour 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 

LICON DE TINSEAU. 


l2mo. Cloth, #1.00 per volume. 


In Quest of the Ideal. 

“It possesses distinct interest, and there are not a few passages which com- 
mand our deepest feelings.” — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 

“ This story owes much of its charm to the skill of the translator, Florence 
Belknap Gilmour, who has translated several other of this author’s books, and who 
has been able to catch his style in a way rarely met with. The characters are care- 
fully and naturally drawn, and there is a great deal of dialogue which is bright.” — 
Boston Times. 

“ The story has a strong, uplifting tone throughout, and the seriousness and 
the crusading spirit of these modem seekers for the ideal, is shared by every indi- 
vidual in the novel, as well as by the reader. The translator reproduces the original 
with a master knowledge. Her choice of words is smooth and easy, and they 
convey exactly the meaning the author meant they should.” — Boston Courier. 


A Forgotten Debt. 

“ The story reads as if it were a true life tale, told simply and with none of 
the unpleasant element found repulsive to American taste in many of the latest 
French novels. It is healthful and hearty, and well suited for summer's day peru- 
sal by old or young.” — Boston Transcript. 

“ A very interesting novel which tells of life in the French provinces and me- 
tropolis, and also in an American frontier military post, and depicts the local 
atmosphere of all three — a difficult feat, which shows the versatility and analytical 
and descriptive powers of the author. The plot is interesting, and holds the atten- 
tion of the reader from beginning to end.” — Detroit Tribune. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA 


By Elizabeth Phipps Train 


ISSUED IN THE LOTOS LIBRARY. 
ILLUSTRATED. 16 MO. POLISHED 
BUCKRAM. 75 CENTS PER VOL. 


THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
A PROFESSIONAL BEAUTY. 

'* It is an interesting confession, admirably written, and; the story throughout 
is delightfully fresh and vivacious ." — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. 

41 The author gives in this handsome little book a charming glimpse of ultra- 
fashionable English society. It has an air of truth which makes its moral the more 
impressive, and the characters are well drawn ." — Columbus Evening Dispatch. 

44 This is a profoundly interesting love story. Its plot is simple, natural, and 
Kfe-like — often approaching the tragic. The dangers from the abuse of the powers 
of hypnotism are strikingly illustrated ."— Chicago Inter- Ocean. 


A SOCIAL HIGHWAYMAN. 

44 There is a consistency of bold purpose in the book which makes it the re- 
verse of mawkish. It is a kind of modernised Dick Turpin ." — Chicago Time 
Herald. 

“ ‘A Social Highwayman/ a small and dainty volume in Lippincott'* Lotoe 
library, is a distinctly interesting, almost a fascinating, story ." — Brooklyn Doit* 
Eagle. 

44 The J. B. Lippincott Company has issued in the Lotos Library, in a hand- 
some little volume, with illustrations, 'A Social Highwayman/ by Elisabeth Phipps 
Train, which originally appeared in Lippincott s Magasine. This thrillingly dra- 
matic story, always intensely absorbing, has acquired a new interest since it was 
turned into a play, and many will be anxious to compare it with the drama which 
bears the same name. The tale has abundant life and movement, and commands 
and retains attention ." — Boston Saturday Evening Gazette. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA, 


ISSUED IN 

Lippincott’s 

Series of Select Novels. 

I2mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00. 

** • Lippincott's Select Novels* Is a series that is most properly named. The 
reader may select at random from the long list of titles with the certainty of getting 
a good novel." — N. Y. Bookseller . 


Lady Val’s Elopement. 

By JOHN BICKERDYKE. 

** The story 19 full of the brightest interest throughout, and several charming 
romances are interwoven with the main tale. The author show9 remarkable skill 
in the formation of his plot, and several delightful characters are introduced. The 
bright spirit of the story does not lag for a moment ." — Boston Home Journal. 


The Failure of Sibyl Fletcher. 

By ADELINE SERGEANT. 

'' This new novel by Adeline Sergeant, whose previous works have attracted 
more than usual attention, is a story of English life, and is a fascinating study of 
character. The plot is original, is ingeniously developed, the dialogue bright and 
sparkling, and the situations artistically arranged. On the whole it is one of the 
best of the select novel series ." — Boston Advertiser. 


Heavy Odds. 

By MARCUS CLARKE. 

u The story is good, running along with thrilling enough interest to keep the 
reader's attention faithfully unto the end. It is just the book to take with one on a 
journey or to spend an evening with. We recommend it heartily to the lover of 
an entertaining story ."—Cleveland Critic. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA 


BY “THE DUCHESS.” 


The Three Graces. 

With 6 full-page illustrations. i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

“ The scene and the pictures are English or Irish, and there is a great deal of 
fresh, sparkling, amusing young life and talk in the book. It is certainly sweet 
and wholesome and full of fun .” — The Congregationalist. 


BY ANNE H. WHARTON. 

A Last Century Maid. 

A Juvenile. 

Quarto. Illustrated. Cloth, ornamental, $1.50. 

, “ The volume is a small quarto, beautifully printed, and bound in ornamental 

cloth, and it is embellished with several full-page illustrations. The first three 
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picture than that drawn of the little colonial Quaker maid we have never seen 
drawn by the pen. The second story is that of a little girl who was stolen by the 
Indians and brought up by them with great affection ; the third is a delightful 
story of ‘ Christmas in Seventeen Seventy-Six,' and the others are all very charm- 
ing. It is a book that children will read, fall in love with, and read again repeatedly. 
One of the most touchingly beautiful stories that we ever read is ‘ A Dog and a 
Sunbeam in Prison,' and its lesson of love will sink into every heart .” — Boston 
Home Journal. 


BY LAURA T. MEAD. 

Catalina, Art Student. 

With 8 full-page illustrations. i2mo. Cloth, $1 25. 

“ An attractive story has been made of the details of the art student's life in Lon- 
don. Catalina is an artistic girl of Spanish descent, beautiful and winning. The 
tale of her struggles and devotion to art is pleasantly told ." — San Francisco Bulletin. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA 


By Julien Gordon 


“ Now and then , to prove to men— perhaps also to prove to 
themselves— what they can do if they dare and will , one of 
these gifted women detaches herself from her sisters , enters the 
arena with men f to fight for the highest prizes , and as the 
brave Gotz says of Brother Martin , ‘ shames many a knight: 
To this race of conquerers belongs to-day one of the first living 
writers of novels and romances , fulien Gordon. ’ ’ 

FRIED ERICH SPIELHAGEN. 


A WEDDING, and Other Stories. 
POPP^EA. 

A DIPLOMAT’S DIARY. 

A SUCCESSFUL MAN. 
VAMPIRES, AND MADEMOISELLE RESEDA. 

Two stories in one book. 

i 2 mo. Cloth, $1.00 per volume. 


** The cleverness and lightness which characterized * A Diplomat’s Diary' are 
not wanting in the later work of the American lady who writes under the pseudo- 
nyme of Julien Gordon. In her former story the dialogue is pointed and alert, the 
characters are clear-cut and distinct, and the descriptions picturesque. As for the 
main idea of ‘ A Successful Man/ the intersection of two wholly different strata of 
American life, — one fast and fashionable, the other domestic and decorous, — it is 
worked out with much skill and alertness of treatment to its inevitably tragia 
issue .” — New York World. 


J. B. LIPP1NC0TT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA. 


By Mrs. Lindon W. Bates. 


Bunch-Grass Stories. 

i2mo. .Cloth, $1.25. 

There is uncommon freshness, like a wind from the wide plains, 
in these tales called Bunch- Grass Stories . They are the work of a 
writer who observes and seizes the picturesque traits in every land 
where fortune happens to call her, and her travels have evidently 
been many and far away. She has, likewise, much reading, which 
she puts to good account in stories that impart the ring of truth to 
classic episodes. 


A Blind Lead. 

The Story of a Mine. 

I2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

" ' A Blind Lead' is certainly a powerful book. We took it up indifferently 
enough, but we had read a few pages only before we found it was no ordinary 
work by no ordinary writer. A good deal of skill is shown in the drawing of char- 
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to the last .” — Boston Advertiser. 


A Nameless Wrestler. 

l2mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00. 

''Her story, 'A Blind Lead,' was very promising, and it is followed by an 
extremely interesting tale, ' A Nameless Wrestler.' Here is something outside the 
hackneyed course of fiction — fresh, strong, fascinating, dramatic, and wholesome — 
scenes laid in an unfamiliar country, though our own, and characters human enough 
to be all the more interesting because touched with strange traits by virtue of en- 
vironment .” — Detroit Tribune. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA. 


By Frances Courtenay Baylor 


On Both Sides. 

i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

“A novel, entertaining from beginning to end, with brightness that never falls 
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enjoyed by those of most cultivation, that is clever, keen, and intellectual enough 
to be recognized as genuine wit, and yet good-natured and amiable enough to be 
accepted as the most delightful humor. It is not fun, but intelligent wit : it is not 
mere comicality, but charming humor ; it is not a collection of bright sayings of 
clever people, but a reproduction of ways of thought and types of manner infinitely 
entertaining to the reader, while not in the least funny to the actor, or intended by 
him to appear funny. It is inimitably good as a rendering of the peculiarities of 
British and American nature and training, while it is so perfectly free from anything 
like ridicule, that the victims would be the first to smile.” — The Critic . 


Behind the Blue Ridge. 

i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

" It is lighted through and through by humor as subtle and spontaneous as any 
that ever brightened the dark pages of life history, and is warmed by that keen 
sympathy and love for human nature which transfigures and ennobles everything it 
touches.” — Chicago Tribune. 

“ Intensely dramatic in construction, rich in color, picturesque in description, 
and artistic in its setting. No more delightful picture of the every-day life of the 
Virginia mountaineers could well be imagined .” — Philadelphia Record. 


A Shocking Example, and Other Sketches. 

i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

” Rarely have we enjoyed a more delightful series of literary entertainments 
than have been afforded by the handsome volume containing fourteen stories and 
sketches from the bright pen of Frances Courtenay Baylor, whose * On Both Sides' 
has won for her so enviable a reputation on both sides of the Atlantic .” — Boston 
Home Journal. 


Miss Baylor’s complete works (“A Shocking Example,” “On 
Both Sides,” and “ Behind the Blue Ridge”), three volumes, in 
box, $ 3 . 75 . 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA. 


By Mrs. Molesworth. 


Philippa. 

Illustrated. i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

" Mrs. Molesworth’s books are always interesting, particularly to girls. This 
story tells of the adventures of a young girl, Philippa, who, in the capacity of a 
lady’s maid, accompanies her married sister on a visit to the latter’s connections by 
marriage. Many complications ensue, which are graphically told.” — Norristown 
Herald. 


Olivia. 

Illustrated. i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

“ The girls everywhere will gratefully thank Mrs. Molesworth for giving them 
this pure, unconstrained, sympathy-moving story of one of their own age and ex- 
perience, to whom their hearts will go out warmly as they conclude their pleasant 
reading of her creation.” — Boston Courier. 


Molesworth Library for Girls. 

OLIVIA. PHILIPPA. 

2 volumes. Illustrated. i2mo. Cloth, $2.50. 

** Mrs. Molesworth is too well known as a successful and discriminating writer 
of stories for girls to need one word said in her praise. Her name upon the title- 
page of a book is sufficient guarantee of its worthiness to be placed in the hands of 
the girls of the family.” — Boston Home Journal. 

“ This author wins her host of readers through her evident desire to place them 
in immediate touch with the plans, the secrets, the hopes and the fears of her in- 
imitable characterizations, and to make them, at least, cognizant of every mystery, 
if there be any, that surrounds the personale of her stories. Her art as a story- 
writer is not emphasized by any subterfuge, but one perceives, with every step, her 
skill and the wholesome design invariably in view.” — Boston Courier. 

u Mrs. Molesworth stands unrivalled as a writer for young girls. She under- 
stands the art perfectly, and never by indifference fails to remember the essential 
things that have won for her so many devoted readers. She knows just where to 
draw the line between a girl’s story and a love story.” — Cleveland Critic. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA 


By Effie Adelaide Rowlands 


“My Pretty Jane!” 

i2mo. Cloth, uncut, $1.00. 

" A sweeter love-story than * My Pretf y Jane' has not been written in many a 
day. The writer has an interesting and attractive story to tell, and she teLs it 
simply, cleverly, daintily ; keeping the reader’s attention on her characters, and 
never once calling attention to her own wit or her own wisdom or her own 
* views.’ " — New York World. 


The Fault of One. 

l2mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $ 1 . 00 . 

“ The story is a fascinating one and is bound to hold the closest attention of 
any reader from beginning to close. It follows the fortunes of a young man who, 
by strength and purpose of will, finds his way out of every seeming difficulty, and 
reaches his goal in triumph, amid the unsought applause of his friends .” — Boston 
Courier. 


The Spell of Ursula. 

l2mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00. 

" The writer invests the simple things of life with a charm which admits her 
at once to the reader’s friendship. In the novel she introduces Ursula, a sphnix- 
like character, combining all sorts of undesirable qualities with a peculiar power of 
fascination .” — Minneapolis Tribune. 


A Faithful Traitor. 

I2mo. Paper, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.00. 

" In ‘A Faithful Traitor,’ the author has done something more than to place 
before us the people and the events of an ordfnary love affair. It is a story hat is 
entirely original in its conception and construction, and is excellently worked out.” 
— Boston Courier. 


J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA. 






















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